Reaper Dreams
by JM Prescott
Summary: The Reapers are dead, Shepard too (so everyone believes) but where is the body? Jack and Miranda discover that there is a fine line between love and hate. Lt. Susan Rizzi, N7 Fury, is the galaxy's new hero. Petrovsky takes charge of Cerberus. Garrus Vakarian, now a Spectre, must make a choice between duty and loyalty. Ashley Williams suffers a series of devastating losses.
1. After War

_Forward_

* * *

 _This is a post Reaper War work of fiction, the plan is to write it as a trilogy incorporating all the choices - Destruction, Synthesis, and Control, into one story.  
_

 _Reaper Dreams focuses on Destruction, The Wraith Wars will focus on Synthesis, and the final novel, Apotheosis, will cover Control._

 _ **Warning:** Mature Themes and sex scenes. Though I stay away from graphic and literal depictions of sex, this Shepard is a complex, haunted person, modeled on Alexander the Great, Mozart, and several other historical icons who had domineering and/or abusive father figures. Reaper Dreams is commanded by a Shepard who struggles with moderate alcoholism and compulsive sexual behavior. (She has a bit of a "Don Draper" mentality).  
_

 _I am also returning to a Mass Effect 2 style story, grittier, even a bit film noir in tone and style. Thus I will be re-visiting ME2 themes such as a the protagonists dealing with terminal illness, torture, and sexual abuse.  
_

 _Josslyn E. Shepard is Mindoir child with the War Hero (Elysium) option, and a "Paragade" (Full Paragon bar, 40% Renegade Bar) She's a bit of a hybrid between Adept and Infiltrator. My play-style reflected this as I constantly rotating the bonus powers: Energy Drain, Barrier, Geth Shielding, Reave, Flare, Warp Ammo, and Domination in both ME2 and ME3, and I played her all the way through the trilogy 4 times... twice as an adept and twice as an infiltrator._

 _As far as romance?_ _ _heavy Jack and Miranda romance... but it is well thought out with character development that makes it more likely, enough so that I have received some begrudging acceptance if not out and out conversion from former Jack and Miranda haters. ;) In addition,_ I pretty much hit all of them in one way or another. Ashley and femshep (and clone), also allusions to Shepard's past relationships with Kaidan, Kelly, Gianna, and Miranda, though Liara is the main focus of Josslyn Shepard's life - it's complicated. Even Zaeed gets some much deserved love in this novel.  
_

 _POV Characters:_

 _ **Admiral Hackett:** 1 (After War) _

_**Subject Zero (aka Jack):** 2 (Kiss the Cheerleader), 16 (Open Relay), 20 (To Have and Have Not), 22 (Bullet in the Chamber), 25  & 26 (Mirror Mirror parts 1 and 2), 34 (April 11), 42, 43 (Assault on Amaranthine Pt 1 & 2), 45 (Epilogue)  
_

 _ **Ashley Williams:** 3 (Dead Hot Robot), 6 (Know and No), 15 (Apple Tarts and Asari Sharks), 24 (Identity Crisis), 27 (Shard), 28 (Double time), 32 (Strong Reaction), 33 (Falling Short), 34 (April 11), 41 (The Board Is Set), 42, 42 (Assault On Amaranthine Pt 1  & 2)  
_

 _ **Gianna Parasini:** 4 (Double Deal), 11 (Deliberations in Hope)_

 _ **Samantha Traynor:** 5 (Mako Tale), 13 (The Ins and Outs of Airlocks), 18 (Party Bomb), 31 (Normandy's Child), 34 (April 11), 40 (Chess Sans Voir)  
_

 _ **Primarch Adrien Victus:** 7 (Alpha Four)_

 _ **Gavin Archer:** 8 (QG3), 19 (The Hounds of Hell), 30 (Broken), 35 (For Her Love), 38 (Death's Sweet Embrace)  
_

 _ **Susan Rizzi:** 9 (The Mouse and the Bear), 10 (Hedged In), 15 (Normandy Ho!), 21 (The Deep Dark), 23 (The Wraiths), 34 (April 11), 39 (One Last Chance), 44 (Tuchanka's Tears)  
_

 _ **Commander Josslyn E. Shepard:** 12 (We are Legion), 17 (Dead Shepard), 29 (Frozen Memory), 36  & 37 (True Blue parts 1 and 2), 46 (Epilogue)  
_

 _Special thanks to Crystaliqeffect for the cover. (you can find her works on Deviant Art)  
_

 _This is the plan:_

 _Book 1: **Reaper Dreams** (Destruction)_

 _Book 2: **The Wraith Wars** (Synthesis)_

 _Book 3: **Apotheosis** (Control)_

 _Thank you for reading – JM Prescott.  
_

* * *

 **REAPER DREAMS**

"Even a dead god can dream"

 _Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn_

 _HP Lovecraft_

May 3rd, 2187

 **Hackett**

* * *

Hackett took a small sip of his coffee. He savored the bitter taste of the dark liquid, recalling how his grandmother used to make it in his youth. " _So black you could hide the sun in it_ ," his mother once said.

The situation being what it was, for all he knew this may well be the last cup he'd ever drink. Earth was a poisoned wasteland. Even if they managed to clear up the wreckage, eezo, and radiation, it still might take decades or even centuries to restore most of the farmland. Without access to the relays there would be no supply line to the agricultural colonies.

"It's a fucking mess out there, Rand," observed the admiral.

"Yes, sir," said his aide. "About your meeting…"

He nodded. "Fourteen hundred sharp. Is everyone here?"

The aide stared at his feet. "Everyone that we could put together. The Council, Urdnot Wrex, Matriarch Lydanya, Major Kirrahe, and Primarch Victus are aboard; Admiral Koris is en route. Unfortunately, Admiral Garrel is confirmed dead. Not much left of the Batarians, most of their fleet made a suicide run there at the end. The Geth fleet is adrift and there's been no contact so we can assume a total loss. The Volus, Elcor, and Hanar are being represented by the council for now."

"And still no sign of the Normandy," said Hackett. "Why didn't they meet us at the rendezvous coordinates?"

"We think she panicked, EDI, I mean. Right before the event she bolted for the Charon Relay," the aid paused. "We think Shepard might have warned her."

"Yea," said Hackett. "That sounds like something Shepard would have done. So, all the AI's are gone?"

The aide shook his head. "Unconfirmed at this point. Our VI's are all intact, so the current school of thought is that only AI's enhanced with Reaper Code were affected. We believe the surge was an advanced form of computer virus that targeted a specific quantum process, which would explain why it killed all the Reapers including the ground troops without harming any organics or standard technology."

Hackett continued to drill his aide. "What about the recon teams we sent to the Citadel?"

"One squad recovered Anderson's body, another encountered a non-integrated Cerberus team fleeing the station. The whole place is in ruins; piles of corpses and wreckage everywhere, and—" the aide's voice broke. He shook his head and collected himself. "No sign of Shepard. I think she's gone sir."

That one hurt the most. Everyone felt it. "Captain Rand," said Hackett. "The best way to honor her is to hold this thing together, make sure her sacrifice was not in vain. We can get through this and rebuild. We'll do what we always do, we'll find a way."

Captain Rand saluted him, "Yes Sir!"

"Now walk me through what we have," he ordered as he moved away from the observation deck window.

Rand brought him up to speed. "The Quarian civilian fleet was full of agricultural ships outfitted with canons. Fortunately for us, they hadn't time to clear them all out before sending them to battle. They've got their hydroponic gardens set up already and they can share food with the Turians for now, but that doesn't help the Krogans or Asari. On that end the Quarians are sharing their technology with us so we can set up our own grow ships, however, it won't be enough and we still don't have an account of our warehouses on earth."

"So what is the plan?" asked the old Admiral.

Hackett's aide seemed pleased with himself. "Remember that varren problem we were having in New York, Seoul, and Mumbai just before the Reaper invasion?"

"Vaguely," said Hackett. "Not really my area, Captain."

Rand continued. "Right, well, the Reapers didn't bother with them, so while the invasion went on the varren population went unchecked and spiraled out of control. We saw them as a potential environmental disaster post war, but now they could be the solution to our food shortages. Krogan have been living off them for years on Tuchanka. Wrex has offered to put together some Krogan teams to show us how to hunt them."

Hackett was disgusted. "Christ, will it really come to that?"

"It's our best option, Sir," said the aide.

"Well, then, get it done," sighed the Admiral.

They entered the corridor and made their way to the conference room. For Hackett it was yet another long day that followed a long day. Once they got through the immediate crisis there were many more on the horizon. He couldn't really remember the last time he'd had a moment to take a breath. He was tired, body and soul, but there was no end in sight, and now he was missing the one person he could always rely on. Admittedly, he was out of sorts.

' _Dammit, Shepard_ ,' he thought to himself. ' _You were supposed to be here to help us put it back together._ '

* * *

 **Mass Effect and its characters are Trademarks of EA International (Studio and Publishing) Ltd. all rights reserved.**


	2. Kiss the Cheerleader

_I actually went back and read this chapter here on FF and realized I'd uploaded this chapter's draft instead of the finished product. Not a happy discovery. So here's the finished chapter at long last._

* * *

" ** _Dogs love their friends and bite their enemies, quite unlike people, who are incapable of pure love and always have to mix love and hate._** "

Sigmund Freud

May 4th, 2187

 **Subject Zero**

* * *

"Fucking hell, don't slow down now, Rodrigez, pick up the pace!" barked Jack.

"Yes, Ma'am," said the girl as she quickened her step.

Her kids were exhausted and battered, but most importantly they were still alive. She needed to keep driving them to keep it that way. It had taken them all night and most of the day to pick their way through the collapsed buildings and rubble. Only two, Prangley and Bellarmine, were still missing.

Jack was hopeful. If there was one thing she had learned from Shepard it was hope. The Reapers were dead, her kids were alive, and beyond that she didn't immediately give a shit. Well, that was a lie. She hoped Shepard was alive as well as the rest of her friends. Holy Fuck! Did she really just think that—friends? Yea, she had friends now as well as obligations and all sorts of shit she never expected.

"Chief Warrant Officer Nought?" asked a man.

Jack was staring off at some wreckage in the distance, wondering if there was really a chance that Prangley and Bellarmine had made it out of there.

"Chief Warrant Officer Nought," the man repeated.

"Oh, yea," she said.

Jack turned to see who was talking to her. She wasn't used to the title. She didn't salute.

The soldier saluted in any case. "I just wanted to thank you. Without the support of your students, no one in my unit would have lived through that."

' _Most of your unit died,_ ' thought Jack, but it didn't come out of her mouth; progress.

"That squadron of fighters that came in at the last minute helped," interjected Cruz.

The kid was right about that. Their position had been overrun—brutes and banshees were tearing the 103rd to pieces when they lost track of Prangley and Bellarmine. Everything was going sideways, then out of nowhere a squadron of fighters swooped down and bought the soldiers of the 103rd time to recover. There were no alliance markings on the planes so they were probably mercenaries Shepard had rounded up in one of her deals. Whoever they were, Jack owed them. Maybe later she could track the survivors down and thank their squadron leader up close and personal, if she saw something she liked.

"Yea, we owe those guys," said the soldier. "They bought our lives dearly. The Reapers burned them right out of the sky."

Ensign Bellarmine moved closer to the soldier and interrupted. "Have you seen any other biotics?" he asked. "Corporal Prangley and my sister, Seanne, are still missing."

"Yea," said the soldier. "I almost forgot. One of the pilots who went down, the squadron leader I believe, made her way out of there with two biotic students. She brought them to triage station up there," he said, waving up the hill near a half ruined building. "They're a bit roughed up but otherwise fine."

Reilly looked almost as relieved as Jack felt. "Thanks Lieutenant," said Jack, this time checking his rank and saluting him.

"Henry," said the man. "Lieutenant Henry, and thank you, all of you. Without those barriers there would be no 103rd."

The news revived the tired crew. Jack and her students made their way up the hill just under an hour later. The triage station was swamped with the wounded; beyond was a makeshift tent city. The victory celebration, such as it was, was muted. It hadn't really sunk in yet that the Reapers were gone. Before the fight their confidence was high, the speeches, the extraordinary size of their fleet, and their belief in Shepard, had made victory seem certain, but once they were in the thick of battle the Reapers taught them why they hadn't lost a war in all the millions of years since they'd started this shit.

' _But they'd never run into anyone like Shepard before_ ,' thought Jack.

Since Jack was a kid she had been subject zero, unstoppable, the ultimate biotic badass, then she met Shepard. The Commander never talked about it, never bragged. People would attribute Shepard's success to leadership, or tactics, personality even, but it was more than that. She was as powerful a biotic as Jack had ever run across. All those things Shepard accomplished with diplomacy, all those stories about what a great leader she was, how she got the best out of her squad, yea, it was true, but it glossed over the fact that she got there by being able to tear anything apart that got in her way. Hell, Shepard made most matriarchs look like old L1's.

When Jack first came aboard the Normandy she was shocked as hell to run into another human biotic on her level. She didn't accept it at first, that smiling Girl Scout with her can-do attitude didn't have any right to that much power. She hadn't suffered for it, or so Jack thought.

She searched the extranet, watched the vids, and looked into Shepard's past. There was little on the Mindoir raid other than the basic facts. Jack knew a few things about Batarian slavers, but it wasn't until she'd met that old marine drinking his life away on Omega that she learned what actually happened on Mindoir. There were crimes that the Alliance would never disclose for fear it would create an outrage in the public sector. They were trying to avoid a path to war with the Batarians.

She remembered his words. " _Kids, girls mostly, put in cages, branded, beaten, raped, mutilated, and we couldn't do shit about it. We were outgunned five to one. It's the kind of thing that haunts you. We saved a few, what we could save of them anyway. There was one teenager, a fierce redhead—lovely girl, green eyes; I noticed the green eyes because that was all that was left of her face. She'd tried to fight off those Batarian bastards. She was a biotic and she tried to fight back She didn't even have implants, but she held them off._

 _Well, for fighting back they stuffed a gun in her mouth and pulled the trigger—it was a fucking mess. I remember thinking that kid would never be the same, and now, well, if I told you who she was you'd never believe me. I'm not supposed to talk about it anyway. I'll get in trouble with the brass._ "

What was it that Shepard had told her? " _I understand anger, but you need to learn how to leave it behind._ "

Jack had scoffed at her, figured the Girl Scout didn't know a thing about real suffering. She felt like an ass. Worse was all those times she'd made a crack about Shepard's oversized mouth. She'd given Shepard endless crap over those puffy pale lips and that freakishly wide smile. She felt shitty about it now; how the hell was she supposed to know that a Batarian had fucked up Shepard's face when she was a kid?

Some random clipboard holder was setting her kids up with bunks while she stood there in a daze. Damn, she was tired. She'd spent all night searching the battlefield in the aftermath, and all the next day carefully weaving their way through the debris, keeping well clear of the Reaper corpses—they were dead but she still didn't want to go near the fucking things. She'd seen firsthand what a dead Reaper could do, hell she'd been inside one and she didn't quite believe it was completely over; not yet. It couldn't be this easy, could it?

"SEANNE!" shouted Bellarmine, who had spotted his sister making her way through the crowd.

Prangley was right behind her. All the students broke ranks and gathered around them. Rodrigez was nearly in tears. Jack was overjoyed but kept her composure. She stayed at a distance and let the kids hug it out. When Jason finally reached out to her she went for the firm handshake.

"Nice job, Prangley. You kept your ass alive out there. Good thing too, I'd have been pissed if you'd gotten yourself killed."

Jason smiled. "Yea, teacher, that's what I kept telling Seanne, that we had to stay alive or we were going to be in deep shit," he said.

"Hey, watch your mouth!" warned Jack through a half-smile.

They all laughed before Prangley made an admission. "It really wasn't me, Ma'am. It was the squadron leader that got us out of there. She found us after she ditched her fighter—fought off two banshees to save us."

"Yea," said Seanne. "She came to the rescue. Said she knew you, that she wasn't going to let anything happen to us."

To the best of her recollection, Jack didn't know any fighter pilots in the alliance or elsewhere, let alone one that could take out two banshees. She stared at the two students dumbfounded.

Before she could ask, Jason said the one name she never would have guessed. "Miranda Lawson," he said, dropping the name with a half smirk as if he was in on a joke.

"You're fucking kidding me?" It came out of her mouth before she even realized what she said. The kids chortled.

"Hey, language!" laughed Prangley.

Jack shrugged. "We just lived through the fucking apocalypse and faced down the Reapers. I think you're adult enough now to handle a little harsh language."

The students erupted in a chorus of hoots, cheers, and "fuck yea's!" for good measure.

Jack smiled. She'd never felt so proud—this connected—to anything in her life, not even her squad mates in the aftermath of the Omega Relay mission. Somehow her kids had gotten through this, all of them, which reminded her of a promise she'd made to herself.

She glanced over to the tent city and then back to Prangley. Before she could ask him, he pointed to the northwest.

"Last I saw, she was over there," he said, barely concealing another smirk.

She nodded. "Right, I'd better take care of that, say thanks and all that shit. Get yourselves situated. I'll be back in a few."

"Take as long as you like, Ma'am," grinned Prangley.

' _Oh, that's great, now everyone is talking about this shit,_ ' she thought.

Of course it would be Lawson that saved her kids. There was some kind of weird fucking mojo between the two of them, and it had only gotten worse since Shepard opened her mouth about it, and fuck Kasumi for posting that shit on the extranet. It was just one drink. Jack couldn't see why everyone was so amused by it. Worse, she couldn't stop thinking about it herself.

Jack pushed the idea down again. ' _Real fucking cute, Shepard, putting that shit in my head. She's Cerberus, a Cerberus bitch! I'll always hate her._ '

She flipped Jason the bird as she passed. If she wasn't so relieved to see him alive, she'd have shockwaved that shit-eating grin right off his face. Making her way through the crowd, acknowledging the occasional soldier who recognized her, she tried to push away a sudden onslaught of nerves. Jack hadn't felt this way since she was a kid waiting to square off in that little makeshift arena on Pragia.

After about ten minutes of searching she couldn't find Lawson. She considered giving up, but it would be a chickenshit thing to do. Lawson had to know she was around here, and if she didn't even say thanks, the cheerleader could always use it to one up her later. Of course she would.

Tugging at the sleeve of a random sentry (apparently the food supplies were as dangerous as the Reapers, judging by the amount of soldiers put on guard duty), she asked him if he'd seen one of the pilots around. She described Lawson, adding in her usual condescending flourishes. He shook his head and warned her away.

Again, she didn't see what was so important about a bunch of crates full of dried rations, but she let it go. She had other things on her mind. Another fifteen minutes of searching brought her nothing. Just as she was about to admit defeat and turn back she heard a familiar Australian accent. Spinning about, she made her way to a woman engaged in conversation with a medic. She wore light body armor that looked like an advanced flight suit. It made sense now that Jack thought about it.

"Hey, the cheerleader has new threads!" she blurted out. "What's the matter, your ass get flabby from sitting behind desks for most of your life?"

Miranda Lawson turned around at the sound of Jack's voice. It was difficult to read her expression—irritation, amusement, relief, surprise, perhaps even a little joy? After a brief moment, the all too familiar self-righteous sneer took up its old habitat.

Jack used to dream of the day when she'd rip that thing right off the bitch's face. She'd fantasized about blasting her so hard in the skull that her perfectly engineered brain matter would come splattering out of her ears. She'd reveled in thoughts of plucking Miranda's eyes out while she was still alive and skull-fucking her empty sockets with the smoking hot barrel of an M-22, the shotgun she'd just used to spray the cheerleader's guts all over the walls.

Jack smirked. ' _That's some fucked up shit._ _I_ _really was a psycho._ '

The hate for Miranda had been strong, and violence was always a seductive outlet for her; for the most part better than sex. Maybe she was still part psychopath, but it all seemed a bit ridiculous now that she was no longer quite so—intense. Her thoughts were more often centered on protecting what was hers rather than lashing out at or smashing things she didn't like. She hadn't realized how much she'd changed until this very moment. Even the sound of Miranda's voice didn't even piss her off like it used to do.

"Jack," said the cheerleader, "glad to see you're still alive, really."

Her lips, which looked a bit more chaffed than Jack had ever seen them, curled from a sneer to a nervous half-smile. Jack used to hate every perfect inch of the woman. It wasn't right that someone could get everything without suffering for it, and no matter what Shepard claimed, Lawson hadn't suffered for it, not really. Yet, she couldn't hate her for it, not anymore, in fact she felt something else entirely.

Jack didn't think about it too long; she went for it. Shepard's words had gotten under her skin. It was time to get it out of her system. She had to see, and if she didn't do it now she never would, so she kissed Lawson. That would settle it once and for all. It wasn't chemistry, it was just plain old hate.

Jack expected that the cheerleader would bug out immediately, back away in disgust, but it didn't happen. In fact, Lawson returned the kiss earnestly, and damned if she wasn't a fucking great kisser. Grabbing the front of Lawson's flight suit, she pulled her in tighter and lost herself in the kiss. She held Lawson close for a precious few extra moments before pushing off reluctantly, and wishing like hell there wasn't a plate of armor between her hands and those tremendous tits she'd always tried not to stare at.

' _Fuck! That was hot. Shepard was right_ ,' she thought.

Of course she was. Shepard was always right.

Miranda blinked for a moment, blushed, and then laughed nervously. She appraised Jack, then shook her head.

"Is that a juicebox in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" she quipped.

Jack shrugged nonchalantly. "Just fucking around. When we tell Shepard about this she'll laugh her ass off. You know how much she loves being right about shit."

The smile melted right off Lawson's face. "Jack," she said. "Joss didn't make it. She, well, she…"

It was the first time Miranda had ever called Shepard by anything but her last name, which made it all worse somehow; Lawson tried to compose herself without a lot of success. Jack didn't want to hear it, but she knew it was the truth.

"Even if… well, I don't know how she managed to get up there, sheer stubbornness I suppose. Hackett said the vital feeds they were receiving…" Again, her voice nearly broke, "she was bleeding out well before the crucible fired. She was probably incinerated the moment she activated the catalyst."

"Fuck," said Jack.

She felt like Lawson had punched her in the stomach. She already knew it, instinctively, when it all went down, but she'd put it out of her head, hadn't really thought about it hard. The kids needed her, she wanted to find her missing students, and so she'd put it away, avoided it; now it was here and it fucking sucked. Jack nearly started hating the cheerleader all over again for letting her know.

"Damn it all," cursed Lawson, her eyes leaking tears.

The cheerleader's whole ice queen routine had fallen apart and Jack didn't really know what to do, so she went back to what she was good at.

"I hope this isn't the part where I'm supposed to hug you and cry along," said Jack, "because I'm not really into that shit."

Miranda composed herself and wiped the tears from her face.

"Thank God for that," she drawled.

Miranda did her best to redraw her patented bitch face. The two women stood there in awkward silence for several moments. They all loved Shepard of course, but Lawson had _rebuilt_ her, piece by piece, no doubt with loving detail. She'd practically willed the Commander back into existence. This was going to hurt Miranda a little worse than the others, maybe Grunt too—he was still a kid and Shepard was for all intents and purposes, a mother figure. Then there was…

'O _h, fuck it'_ , thought Jack.

Who was she kidding? This was going to kill all of them. It was already hurting worse than she cared to admit. It wasn't supposed to end this way. Jack shuffled her feet nervously and cocked her head.

"I really ought to get back to the students again," she said. "Anyway, thanks again for stepping up like that."

Miranda let another half-smile slip. "I heard the 103rd was in trouble, and I wasn't going to let you lose those kids."

"So you knew," said Jack. "You put your ass on the line for me?"

Miranda tried to deflect. "Those kids are the future of humanity," she said.

"Yea, I suppose they are," said Jack.

The conversation was going nowhere fast.

"I need to get going myself. I'll see you around, or probably not," said Miranda.

"Right, so bye," said Jack.

Miranda pursed her lips and turned away. Jack watched her go, but not before having the last word.

"Hey, cheerleader!" she called out.

Miranda looked back, cocking her head inquisitively.

"I still fucking hate you," said Jack.

Lawson didn't say anything in reply, instead she melted into the crowd and soon vanished from sight. Jack figured she'd never see her again and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. As soon as she turned back in the general direction she'd came from, she spotted several of her students in the nearby crowd doing a shitty job of being inconspicuous.

She tried to glare at them, but broke out in a half-assed smile instead, and then, surprisingly, she felt tears on her cheeks. It pissed her off. She wiped them away immediately.

' _What the hell. You don't cry, dumbass,_ ' she thought.

Not even over Shepard.

* * *

 **Up Next:** The Normandy Crew.


	3. Dead Hot Robot

_Some players argue Bioware intended Ashley to be a love interest for femshep in ME1. It is true that the romance dialogue is all still there tucked away in game files. I've heard from a lot of players that they believed Ash was a romance option they could have, only to find themselves blocked and frustrated. I decided to incorporate that into the story. I'm firmly entrenched in camp Liara, of course, but my story is for everyone. ;)_

* * *

 **" _The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone."_**

Harriet Beecher Stowe

May 5th, 2187

 **Ash**

* * *

"He's still in there?" asked Ashley.

She motioned towards the metal door.

Dr. Chakwas nodded.

She paused for a moment, considering Ashley, then said "Lt. Commander, be yourself, don't try to say what she would have said; he'll see through it."

"Right," said Ashley.

Opening the door to the AI core, she slipped inside.

The door hissed shut behind her. Joker was seated on the floor of the room in front of the burned out core. He was wrung out, his eyes were red, his beard and hair disheveled, and he reeked of sweat and desperation. His hat rested in the corner where he had apparently thrown it in frustration. The bald patch on his head was visible.

He sighed as Ashley approached him.

Before she could open her mouth Jeff spoke first. "EDI used to talk about various theories of existence, you know? There was some bullshit called the Holographic Theory of Existence she'd bring up from time to time, and then something similar she was discussing with Liara. It all went completely over my pinhead, but they made it sound like this is all a simulation, like we're all in some virtual reality, in the Matrix, you know, that old Sci-Fi vid from the 20th century?"

"Never saw it," replied Ashley.

"Yea, I didn't figure you had," he said.

He let out a sigh of grief and ran his fingers through his sweaty, lanky hair.

"Anyway, if this is just some simulation and we are holograms—projections of some kind, or even characters in a vid-game or something, whoever or whatever designed this ending is a fucking asshole," he said.

Ashley thought about it for a moment before answering. "It could have been worse, Joker."

"How?" he asked. "I lost my girlfriend, yea, she was my robot girlfriend, but I don't give a damn what anyone thinks. I loved her. It was real to me. Oh, and yea, I also just happened to lose my best friend in the galaxy, and I'm trying to find some way to believe that my father and sister are still alive.

If all that isn't enough of a pile of crap? We're stuck in some uncharted system between who-knows-what relays, and without EDI managing the fields we'll have to limp home at low throttle and pray we don't hit a radiation storm. It will take us weeks, months, and maybe even years to get back to the Sol system instead of a few hours or days. I don't even want to think about how we are going to process or salvage fuel."

Ashley didn't understand Jeff's relationship with EDI. It really made no sense to her, but she knew to keep quiet on the subject. No more sticking her foot in her mouth if she could help it.

No doubt she was biased against EDI because of her experience with the chassis she appropriated. The damn thing had nearly killed her on mars. Despite EDI's usefulness, Ashley had never agreed with Shepard on the freedom it was given, and here they were in a bind because the computer had panicked, seized control of the ship, and dashed through the relay instead of heading to the fleet rendezvous coordinates just outside of Jump Zero.

It was unprecedented for a ship to be stuck in transit when a Mass Relay corridor collapsed, she'd never heard of such a thing. The big brains theorized it happened from time to time, and that's why some ships simply vanished, but to actually experience it was disconcerting. The surge of energy that collapsed the space-time bubble would have torn the Normandy apart if Joker hadn't manually engaged the FTL out of desperation. He was either crazy or genius, but it saved them—no one had ever done it before, or at least hadn't done it and lived to tell about it.

They were double lucky to drop out of FTL in a system with a garden world. Joker got them to the ground with all systems failing, again, something of a miracle. It was almost as if someone up there was looking out for them.

They had access to fresh water, edible flora and fauna with enough diversity to cover the entire crew, and plenty of accessible elements. Essential repairs would take only a few days. Once they were in space they would start to run into real problems.

Without EDI, the Normandy was all but useless in battle, and FTL turned into a game of roulette. They would have been completely screwed without Glyph—Liara's helper wasn't exactly designed to act as a VI for an advanced frigate, but hopefully it could manage well enough to get them home. Tali and Liara had been working around the clock to get Glyph plugged in to all of the Normandy's critical processes.

Joker waved his arm back and forth to get her attention.

"Normandy to Commander Williams!" he said.

"Sorry," said Ashley. "All that's happened to us; well, it's a lot to take in."

"No shit," said Joker. "Speaking of… How is Liara holding up?"

"I've been keeping her busy," said Ashley.

"Yea, that's good," said Joker. "I wish I could fly right now."

"You'll be back at it soon enough," she said.

Joker rubbed his hair again. "I really need to get my shit together, sorry Ash."

"It's ok," said Ashley. "We all feel it. You should see what James has done to the heavy bag."

"Yea," said Joker. "Probably not a good idea if I shatter my arm punching a bag though, on account of us all needing to fly home. I like Cortez, but would you trust him at the helm of the Normandy?"

Ashley smiled. "Probably not."

Joker shifted on the floor. "Remember what it was like after Kaidan died?"

"I try to forget it," said Ashley. "For days afterwards I did my best to avoid Shepard. She had this look on her face that… Well, I felt she was thinking that it should have been me. Hell, I was thinking it should have been me. I think they had something, you know, Shepard and Lt. Alenko."

Joker laughed. "God, sometimes you're pretty stupid, Ash," he said.

Ashley snapped at him. "Excuse me?"

"Sorry," he said. "Sometimes, you're pretty stupid, Ma'am."

She was confused. "What do you mean?"

He looked up at her, cocking his head at an odd angle. He had the same expression he always wore whenever he was dying to share a bit of juicy gossip.

He grinned. "I've been holding this one back for a long time. You know, because I didn't want the Commander to shoot me, or beat my crippled ass," he said.

"Spit it out, Joker," said Ashley.

"I mean, yea, you're right about one thing: Kaidan had a crush on Shepard, but it was all one-sided. In case you hadn't noticed, the Commander didn't exactly play both sides of the field. Liara isn't just an aberration because she's Asari and all.

There was this thing with Kelly Chambers when we were with Cerberus; also, I thought I picked up on some vibes between her and Miranda, at least for a little while, or maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part."

"Oh!" said Ashley. "I never really thought about it."

"Yea, apparently not," noted Joker. "You missed all the signals back in the day."

Ashley was stunned. "What?"

Joker grinned. "Oh yea, when you first came aboard after Eden Prime, the Commander had it bad for you. I think she was going to make a move, and then I heard that you shut her down pretty hard."

Ashley couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Are you trying to be funny?"

Joker shook his head. "I'm being serious, honest! The way I hear it, she was going to ask you out, and then she overhead your sister talking to you about Kaidan and assumed you were into him. Then you went off about regs and she took it as a hint to back off. I think she was a little heartbroken for a while, well, until Dr. T'soni showed up anyway."

"Wow," said Ashley. "I never knew. I remember my sister teasing me but that's all it was, I mean, not that anything would have come of it in any case. I'm flattered, but I like men."

"You sure?" asked Joker. "I mean, no offense, but you're not exactly skirt and stockings material."

Ashley's face reddened. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Joker backed off a little. "Hey, hey, don't get so defensive. I'm just pointing out that you're kind of a badass Ash, you know, aside from the big guns; I mean, _actual_ big guns, and armor, and that bit about being the second human Spectre."

She felt moderately insulted. "So I can't be tough and feminine at the same time?"

"I didn't say that," said Joker. "Hey, my experience is limited here. I've spent most of my time hanging with Shepard and a hot robot."

Ashley frowned. "I've only ever dated men."

"So that's definitive then," said Joker.

"Pretty sure," said Ashley.

Joker grinned. "So I have a shot?"

"Jeff," said Ashley, using his real name the first time since she had known him, "I'd probably break you."

He guffawed. "Yea, but it'd totally be worth the trip to med bay."

"Right…" she trailed off. "Anyway, Joker, I need you to get your head on straight. We have a lot of work to do before we can get back home."

He nodded at her. "On it, CO," he said. "And Ash?"

"Yea?"

Joker looked up at her appreciatively. "Thank you, you know, for the pep talk, such as it was."

"Anytime," she said.

Ashley exited the AI core and found herself back in med bay.

Dr. Chakwas was gone. She glanced around the room, sucked air in through her teeth, and tried to get her bearing. It was going to take a while to process what Joker had told her, not that it made a lot of difference one way or another. The Commander was gone and all that Ashley could do about it was try to honor her by bringing the Normandy and her crew home.

* * *

 **Mass Effect and its characters are Trademarks of EA International (Studio and Publishing) Ltd. all rights reserved.**


	4. Double Deal

_I'm a huge fan of the Gianna character. If she was a romance option for either Shepard, I dunno, Liara or Miranda might be in trouble! I sure as heck wanted more than a beer with her, and I was disappointed I never saw her in ME3. Obviously, I had to bring her back to the playing field and give her a starring role._

* * *

 _ **"Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?"** _

Abraham Lincoln

May 6th, 2187

 **Gianna Parasini**

* * *

"Buttoned up," Gianna said aloud as she fixed her jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles.

The intercom crackled. " _Madam Secretary, the delegates are aboard._ "

"Thank you, Austin," she replied. "I'll be there in a few."

Madam Secretary indeed—she was never going to get used to that title. Gianna Parasini, Secretary General of the Alliance. ' _If dad could only see me now,_ ' she thought.

Of course it was a promotion under fire. The Reapers had butchered or indoctrinated every political official on Arcturus Station and Earth. There was no possible way to hold elections in the near future so Hackett assigned the positions, passing them out on hand-written note cards on actual fucking paper. President Martin Burns, Vice President Elspeth Murrain, Secretary General Yours Truly, and three other minor appointments that slipped Gianna's mind. It was all a sham of course, the military was in complete control, but appearances were everything.

However, it was worth noting that as long as she followed Hackett's principal directives she was afforded a broad range of power that perhaps no lone political officer had wielded in the past thousand years of human existence. The President and Vice President would be primarily concerned with the reconstruction of earth, but Gianna had been tasked with overseeing political alliances with aliens. In the next few years there would be a mad scramble to fix the Mass Relays. The haves and have nots of the galaxy would be determined by which relays opened first.

The Salarians and Asari were not doubt already hard at work on the problem despite feigning helplessness on the matter. Both races had become accustomed to privilege and people who were accustomed to privilege would not easily relinquish such power. They would work every angle, use every resource, and put themselves back in superior position before any other race even managed to dig themselves out of the grave.

Humanity was holding many cards, and yet they were at a severe disadvantage thanks to Cerberus. If they weren't careful, they would soon find themselves relegated back to second tier status, unhappily sitting next to the Volus and Elcor at the kiddie table.

Hackett was a military man and his thinking was distinctively military, yet she had to give the old buzzard credit. What he was proposing took some serious cojones; it would more or less shake up the political structure of the entire known galaxy. ' _We need to play to our strengths, Gianna_ ,' he had told her. However, time was of the essence. She had to get the right races on board and quickly. If any word of her proposal got out, Hackett, the President, and the Vice President would categorically deny it and she'd be the one to take the fall.

Smoothing the wrinkles in her suit, she stepped into the corridor and made her way to the aft access tubes of the Tai Shan. The massive dreadnaught was the fourth largest ship in the Alliance fleet, check that, the third largest. The Shasta had been destroyed just five days prior. Gianna shook her head silently. There was still no true account of the losses, but the numbers were climbing daily.

Straightening her shoulders as she walked, she began to assume the characteristics of her office. Gianna wasn't a politician, but she could certainly play one—buttoned up, affable, outwardly altruistic, but above all; self-interested.

The tube opened. Two crewmen acknowledged her with a nod as she entered; a sharp hiss announced that the door had sealed behind her. Not wanting to crease her suit, she grabbed the handrail as the tube accelerated to the aft deck.

She glanced around at the decorum, noting the solid titanium walls, the harnesses on the seats, and the oxygen delivery system. Gianna remembered that the transit tubes on dreadnaughts also served as escape pods in the event of emergency. By virtue of command code authorization explosive charges would detonate on the chamber plugs and the tube itself would rocket into space. Its maneuvering thrusters had enough power to navigate a solar system and land survivors on a world of four standard G's or less.

The tube slid down the rail, traversing nearly a third the length of the nine hundred and sixty six meter ship in under half-a-minute. One soldier, a handsome young lieutenant, considered her appreciatively as the tube came to a stop. He was clearly working up his nerve to start a conversation when the doors popped open with a metallic clink followed by the familiar hiss of air rushing through the freshly opened seals.

She pushed through the doors to avoid the inevitably awkward brush off and took a hard right down the hall. Embracing the role, she walked like a social crusader, all purpose and bluster, the rigid soles of her boots click-click-clicking on the corrugated matte floor of the passage; another hard right, and then she stopped at the third door on the left.

Taking a deep breath, she keyed a code into her omni-tool, waved it in front of a sensor, and listened to the mechanism unlatch. As expected, two envoys greeted her; a smallish male Krogan and an exceptionally tall (even for her species) female Turian. They wore no badge of office, which betrayed their relative unimportance in the grand scheme of things. They were all three, disposable.

The Krogan was unusually affable for one of is species. He smiled and bowed in her presence, making a formal yet exaggerated flourish. She resisted the temptation to giggle.

"Greetings Madam Secretary," he said. "My name is Urdnot Darg."

It was obvious to her that he was a lapdog promoted far above his station, someone naïve enough to believe he was important, loyal enough to follow orders without question, and ridiculous enough to be utterly dismissed should his purpose ever come under scrutiny. He was infectiously enthusiastic in a pitiable way. Certainly he was making the most of his sudden opportunity.

The Turian female appeared amused by the odd little Krogan.

She introduced herself in a matter of fact manner—all business. "Gyr'en Domitius, Secretary to the Primarch," she said.

Gianna acknowledged them politely, but before proceeding she punched in several commands on her omni-tool and scanned the entire room, thoroughly, while the Turian and Krogan looked on in confusion. Once she was completely satisfied, she retracted the omni-tool and smiled a fake politician smile.

"Sorry," she stated. "Can't be too careful. Salarians and Asari love their clever little spy devices."

Urdnot Darg guffawed. "Sneaky Salarian slime!"

Gyr'en was unflappable. "I doubt they could get an agent on an Alliance ship, let alone deduce what room we were going to use."

Gianna smiled again. "Never underestimate the STG, or even an Asari Commando for that matter. Young adult males make up sixty-eight percent of the population of this vessel, and the male of our species is particularly susceptible to Asari guile."

"As are your females, or so I hear," said Urdnot Darg.

He laughed a peculiar laugh. It sounded like the bark of a bigger, small dog. The expression on his face betrayed a hint of bemused salaciousness; probably remembering something he'd seen in a vid, likely Vania.

Gianna groaned inwardly. Perhaps she could use her new office to appropriate a virus designed to erase every copy of that damned vid. Human females were precariously close to becoming second tier Asari in terms of galactic sensibilities. Forget the virus, could she illegalize strip clubs? Now there was a thought.

Gyr'en's small eyes twitched back and forth, the Turian equivalent to a human eye-roll, or a sigh of exasperation. Gianna had learned to read both subtle and prominent Turian expressions—quite important in her former line of work, and possibly more important in her current.

"Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" said Gianna, briskly.

"The Primarch has considered the human proposal," said Gyr'en. "He is agreeable, with many conditions."

"The Great Urdnot Wrex likes this human notion, but he is also wary," added Darg. "It is right that the powerful should rule, but this plan requires trust in the Turians. It will be hard for our people."

"I understand the reasons you would object," said Gianna. "But this is about protecting ourselves and our children. As near as I can tell, since the Asari and Salarians came on the scene they've been ruling the roost, and worse, using other races as cannon fodder to keep them up on their high horses. When Earth and Palaven were getting pounded, they watched from a distance, refusing even to help with the Crucible until it was nearly too late. When the Krogan asked for a Genophage cure in exchange for their sacrifices, the Asari and Salarians wrung their hands, cited political differences, or even tried to sabotage the cure in the face of galactic extinction."

"Damned Salarians!" growled Urdnot Darg. "We should pay them back!"

"Unthinkable!" interjected Gyr'en. "War is the last thing this galaxy needs."

"Also, tactically inadvisable," said Gianna. "Krogan numbers or strength won't mean a damn thing without Mass Relays, ships, or colonies to populate. This is why our proposal is beneficial."

"We risk sanctions or more," said Gyr'en. "Once the council gets wind of this..."

"They won't have to get wind of it," said Gianna. "We'll tell them ourselves. They'll sign off on the proposal without a second thought, especially considering it is such an Asari notion—peace, harmony, cooperation. There will be no reason to suspect that we've already started the process.

With the Mass Relays down and most of the communication buoys destroyed it will take some time for them to gather any intelligence. Besides, they'll be so busy scrambling to get to the top of the hill on their own, they won't even notice us pulling each other up ahead of them."

"Turians and Humans on Tuchanka," sighed Darg, "This could end badly."

"Yes," agreed Gyr'en. "There is always that possibility."

"Human engineers meeting Krogan needs. Turian ships carrying important supplies. It's hardly an occupation, and in return there will be a Krogan military presence in human systems, and in Turian space as well," noted Gianna.

"Which could likewise cause problems," observed Gyr'en.

"There will be more problems if pirates see our colonies as ripe for plunder," said Gianna. "Krogan garrisons in our systems will give them pause."

"And if we agree to this, we get three worlds right away, in addition to what the council has proposed?" asked Darg in disbelief.

Gianna nodded. "If the Turians are agreeable on the Gellix situation."

"We are," said Gyr'en. "As long as the humans are willing to give up Zoya and Pragia."

"We will," said Gianna. "Both of those words are perfect for the Krogan."

"And there will be more worlds after?" asked Darg, who's eyes nearly glinted with greed.

"Yes," said Gianna.

The Krogan was suspicious. "And you won't harass us about our populations?" asked Darg.

"We'll cross that bridge when you hit the numbers we proposed, and that will take centuries, if ever," said Gianna.

"We breed fast," noted Darg.

"But even the Krogan will have difficulty reaching a hundred billion," said Gy'ren. "Attrition alone will be an obstacle."

Urdnot Darg appeared to deliver a Krogan-style smirk. "We will see," he said.

"So we have an accord?" inquired Gianna, trying to conceal her eagerness.

"In spirit, informally, yes," said Gy'ren.

Darg was enthusiastic. "We do."

"Well, as we say on Earth, we'll be in touch," said Gianna.

The meeting broke up shortly thereafter, as they were all wary of being in one place together for too long. Gy'ren left first, as they had previously agreed. This pleased the Krogan who would have been suspicious if the Turian and Human stayed behind. Gianna reassured Darg before exiting the room herself, but not before checking for bugs one more time.

' _Call me paranoid, but never call me careless,_ ' she thought to herself.

* * *

 **Mass Effect and its characters are Trademarks of EA International (Studio and Publishing) Ltd. all rights reserved.**


	5. Mako Tale

_When we lose someone we love, the first thing we to do is share our memories of our experiences with them. The first such stories tend to focus on the good things the person did; sins are easily overlooked or forgiven, deeds exaggerated at times, and soon it becomes difficult to distinguish the legend from the actual person. The legend is what lives on in history, becomes politicized: either canonized or demonized by revisionism. The real person is forever gone, captured only in memories, analog and digital._

* * *

 ** _"The things we do outlast our mortality. The things we do are like monuments that people build to honor heroes after they've died. They're like the pyramids that the Egyptians built to honor the pharaohs. Only instead of being made of stone, they're made out of the memories people have of you."_**

R.J. Palacio

May 7th, 2187

 **Traynor**

* * *

They all needed a break, a little time to laugh, and Garrus was providing the right medicine at the right time. Commander Williams had set them on the early path, giving direction after the crash, but she had recently lost her steam. ' _What's eating Ashley Williams?_ ' was the question that Traynor keyed into her daily log.

It appeared to her that almost precisely the moment Joker found his way back from the brink of despair, Ashley had gone off the cliff. She was becoming morose and it was affecting everyone, so much so that Vakarian felt the need to get the crew together for a post-meal drink and a little reminiscing. Dr. T'Soni was the only member of the command staff absent.

Liara claimed that her ' _other_ ' work was pulling her away, but she was fooling no one. The Asari was in mourning and not even Garrus or Tali could pull her out of her quarters. No one blamed her, how could they? To lose anyone was difficult, to lose someone twice was unthinkable. Shepard's death was hard enough on those who loved the Commander from afar, but Liara? Traynor could not imagine what it must feel like to have someone like Shepard and then not have her. The jealousy she once felt for Dr. T'Soni had utterly dissolved, leaving only pity and compassion in its wake.

The liquor was flowing freely and after such a light meal it was going straight to their heads. Garrus had just finished a dramatic retelling of the day they met Liara, including the famous last words a Krogan Warlord directed at Shepard shortly before she slammed him into the wall with her biotics and drove her omni-tool through his skull.

"You haven't told us the words yet, what were the words?" insisted Diana Allers.

Garrus chuckled. "I'm getting there, come on, the punchline comes at the end!"

"We're way past the end," said James. "Spit it out Vakarian!"

Garrus drew himself up and did his best imitation of a Krogan. "I like your attitude!"

The port lounge erupted in laughter.

Tali set aside her drink and straw. "That was Shepard. When I first met her she seemed so kind and compassionate, like she really cared. I couldn't believe she was for real, but she seemed to actually want to do the right thing. I wondered why the Council had chosen her for a Spectre, but then I realized this: she gave everyone a chance, but once you pushed her limits or crossed her…"

"BANG!" shouted Garrus, who slapped his hand on the table and startled a few junior crewmen. "Someone would die before they even saw it coming."

"Oh, Garrus," said Dr. Chakwas. "Surely you're exaggerating, you make it sound like she had a hair trigger. Shepard wasn't a psychopath."

"He is not exaggerating," said Tali, who was slurring her words ever so slightly. "On Feros I really saw it for the first time. Shepard, Wrex, and I had just fought through several waves of Geth, destroyed a drop-ship, and faced off with a half-dozen of Saren's mercenary Krogan band. All of this bloodshed and battle just to find out what Saren was after on Feros.

As it turns out, one of the ExoGeni representatives knew all along, but he was covering it up on behalf of the company. Now, above all things, you do not lie to Shepard. And this man, Ethan was his name if I recall, had deliberately lied to us. Shepard was angry to begin with, but when we returned from dealing with the dropship he had his security guards holding civilians and scientists at gunpoint. He was rambling on about liquidating assets."

"Bad move," said Garrus.

"Shepard tried to reason with him," said Tali. "Normally she would have talked him down, but she was tired and he was stupid. He made a terrible mistake; he thought he could intimidate her by waving a gun around in front of the civilians."

Tali leaned forward and used her hands to enact the scene she described. "I did not even see her aim the pistol. His head just e-x-p-l-o-d-e-d. His brains splattered all over the civilians and several security guards. We were all frozen in shock, except Wrex, who stepped forward, leveled his shotgun at the security guards, and growled about who would be next. I went along with it, of course. Fortunately, none of the guards could see my frightened expression through my visor."

James pounded his fist into the couch. "Oh, yea, waxed that greedy corporate stiff. I bet they stood down immediately!"

"All I could hear, was the sound of guns clattering on the floor," said Tali.

Garrus laughed. "That was the day she won Wrex's heart. I never saw a Krogan who held any alien in higher regard than Wrex did Shepard."

"Because she reminded him of a Krogan," said James.

"Or a Prothean," interjected Javik.

"And just a few days before, she had gone off course to help Wrex track down his family armor. He was different with her after that," said Tali. "Could you ever see Wrex letting anyone else drive a tank with him inside?"

"Oh, spirits!" said Garrus. "Here we go with the Mako."

Tali bobbed her head. "I hated the Mako."

Cortez was in agreement. "I've heard nothing but horror stories about M35's."

"Hey!" said James. "I love those things."

Garrus stared down Vega and shook his head. "Try being stuck in one for hours with a Krogan who's been eating human rations," he said.

Ashley, who had been sulking in the corner finally perked up. "Oh dear God, I remember," she said. "It smelled like a crocodile had crawled in there and died the week before."

Tali giggled. "It was the only time I was truly grateful to be stuck in my suit. Filtration is a magical word!"

"And to make matters worse, Shepard drove like a madwoman. She'd drive at top speed and hit a rock and roll the thing constantly, drive off cliffs, zig zag around and run right up next to turrets, or a Geth Armature, or a Colossus, blasting away, and then scream 'out, out!'" said Ashley. "Try spinning yourself around for a minute and then jumping out of a tank and trying to aim straight while under heavy fire. We're all lucky to be alive."

"Not that I am defending the Mako, but it does have a small Mass Effect core to dampen inertia," said Cortez.

"Keyword, small," said Garrus. "It wasn't designed to counter the vertigo induced by rolling down the side of a mountain, at least not for Turians."

Ashley nodded in agreement. "Not for humans either, but for some reason we never complained to her, not even Wrex, not even on the mountains of Nodacrux, which, if I may add, were far beyond the capabilities of the M35. Worst place, ever, to drive a Mako."

"Aha!" said Traynor. "That was what Shepard meant whenever she said ' _more fucked than Nodacrux_ ,' I knew there was a story behind that phrase."

"Uh, huh," said Garrus. "We got stuck so many times in those damn mountains. We were all cursing the Mako that day, though if I remember correctly, Wrex wasn't there to complain. It was just me and Ash."

"Well, there was one thing Wrex would complain about," said Tali.

"Oh, yea…" said Garrus. "Driving on flat land."

"Wait, wouldn't that be a welcome break from the mountains?" asked Cortez.

"Except that Wrex was raised on Tuchanka," said Ashley.

"And he was paranoid about Thresher Maws," added Tali.

Garrus shook his head. "Whenever Shepard would cross over a flat piece of planetary real estate, Wrex would start fingering his shotgun and fidgeting. He'd say ' _Watch yourself Shepard, this is Maw territory._ ' It didn't even matter if the planet was habitable, hell, even if there wasn't an atmosphere on the damn rock, he'd get nervous."

"And then…" said Tali. "You have to tell them Garrus."

Garrus chuckled. "Oh yea, believe me, I was getting to it."

"Oh, God, I love this story," said Ashley.

"It was Shepard, Wrex, and I," said Garrus. "Hackett had sent us after some terrorists on the planet Chohe, which is a pretty barren place. Aluminum and Calcium dust storms, extreme temperature shifts, hardly any atmosphere at all. Not a planet where you'd expect to find anything alive. We were on a short clock—toxins had been released, so Shepard didn't have her normal pre-drop chat with Pressley. He used to do the research and give her a rundown of every planet we landed on, and he was great at it, but not this day.

Joker drops us about four clicks south of our target, and right off the bat we get a hit on the LADAR. Shepard dismisses it as wreckage from a probe, but I was worried it was a recon or defense drone, so she spins the Mako around to check it out. We're buzzing across this flat patch and Wrex goes for his shotgun. ' _I smell a Maw!_ ' he declares.

Shepard guns it across the flat, dismissing him out of hand. ' _All I smell is you_ ,' she says, flashing him one of her patented, ultra-wide, shit-eating grins. The second she took her eyes off the horizon I feel a bit of a shake, and then I hear a sonic wail tearing through the Mako's armor. Next thing I know, wham! We're upside down, sideways, on fire, bulkhead breeched, and bleeding oxygen. Shepard is scrambling for her grenade launcher, but I'm pinned to the ground with a face full of Krogan ass, and trust me when I say, it wasn't pretty!"

Garrus had the room going with that line. James began roaring with laughter and pounding the sofa with his fists. Private Campbell, who was fairly drunk, toppled onto the floor, kicking, with tears streaming down her face. Traynor noted that even Javik was laughing so hard that he began to choke on his drink. Ashley, having momentarily forgotten what was troubling her, was fully engaged, even though she had likely heard the story a dozen times.

Garrus went on. "Shepard, like usual, screams ' _OUT! OUT!_ ' at us as she shot out of the Mako like, hmmm, what would you humans say?"

"A mongoose," said Samantha.

James laughed at Traynor. "A mongoose? Nobody says that. Rabbit, Garrus, as fast as a rabbit," said James.

"Right…" said Garrus. "Shepard was out of the Mako as fast as a rabbit. Fortunately, Wrex was scared enough to stuff himself out that door, like a, well, hell I'm not even going to go for a descriptor here; let's just say you never saw a Krogan move with more urgency.

By the time I'd managed to scramble out of the Mako myself, the Maw was coming down on the thing. I almost bought it right there. I'm rolling through aluminum dust, M35 parts raining down around me, and I got hit with a sonic blast; tore up my shields, cracked my helmet, broke a few ribs. Wrex is blasting away at the Thresher Maw with his shotgun, and Shepard is making a loop around behind it, tearing into the thing with biotic warp fields.

I'd barely got to my feet and shouldered my M7, when the damn Thresher Maw reared up and belched in my general direction. Rock and surface crust disintegrated in a rain of acid, and by some strange quirk of fate I didn't get much more than a few drops on me, which is a damn good thing, considering the shape my armor was in. Wrex wasn't so lucky. His armor got splattered in Thresher acid—went right through his kinetic and biotic barriers as if they weren't there. Lucky for him he'd just upgraded to a heavy suit of Colossus armor with toxin-resistant mesh, otherwise he'd have been a puddle of Krogan instead of a mountain."

The laughter died down in the lounge. Broad smiles transformed into understanding expressions exchanged silently between honorable warriors. Samantha wondered how many times each of these soldiers had faced certain death over their careers; a dozen, a hundred? She'd never understood that kind of bravery until she served on the Normandy. Here it was as expected as it was infectious. When she was around Shepard, Garrus, Tali, Liara, Ashley, James, Javik, even Staff Officers like Dr. Chakwas, or Engineer Adams—she felt heroic.

Vakarian continued his tale. "That's when things began to look serious. A routine hostage extraction against some low-rent biotic terrorists had turned into a life or death struggle against one of the biggest Thresher Maws you'll ever see off Tuchanka. I couldn't find a soft spot on the thing with my rifle, so I was next to useless. Wrex, in his acid-damaged armor, was moving too slow. Easy prey for the Thresher Maw.

I thought we were dead meat; that we were going to buy it right then and there, but that's when I really got a first-hand look at what Shepard could do. I've never seen anyone unleash biotic warp fields that could tear into a full grown Thresher Maw before, let alone a biotic who could stagger one by striking it with a throw field. She battered the hell out of the thing, running around it in circles. She was too fast for it to draw a bead on her, and it lacked the instinct to figure out where she'd zig or zag to next."

"Yes, a soldier's one advantage over a beast like that is intellect," said Javik.

"So I learned," said Garrus. "And a hell of a lot of guts. The damn worm never had a chance. She beat it down, slowed up and let it draw near, then emptied her grenade launcher into its gullet. Blew the thing apart from the inside out. After it flopped over, Wrex sat down in the dust and laughed at her. Said that the show she put on almost made up for her human stupidity and arrogance."

"The Commander was apologetic, of course," said Garrus. "It's not often you'd ever see her make a mistake like that, and she took it to heart. She radioed Joker for the pickup, got Wrex and I into the med bay for treatment, then set off with Kaidan and Ashley on foot to deal with the hostage crisis. The Mako was scrap."

"We walked three clicks in, on foot, in radiation suits. Kaidan and I were tired as hell, so I can't imagine what Shepard felt like considering what she'd just been through," said Ashley.

"Yet, the three of you took out the terrorists without losing a single hostage," said Garrus.

"I got some chest candy for that one," said Ashley. "Hackett was impressed."

"Can I initial your medal the next time you wear it?" asked Garrus. "I'd like to think I earned a small piece of that."

The lightness had gone out of the room. There was always a point in a conversation where reminiscing induced melancholy, and the humor of an old story betrayed the slightest aftertaste of bitterness. They had reached that point.

Sensing as much, Garrus fell silent.

Javik, ever one to burden a moment of levity with an additional load of pessimism, chose instead, to simply raise his glass. "To the Commander!" he said.

The crew in the lounge echoed his sentiments, raising their glasses and speaking in chorus. They swallowed their drinks, acknowledged each other, and slowly began to file out the door. Soon, only Ashley, Tali, Garrus, and Traynor remained.

"Garrus, can I speak to you, alone?" asked Ashley.

Tali and Samantha acknowledged the request and left the room together.

* * *

 **Mass Effect and its characters are Trademarks of EA International (Studio and Publishing) Ltd. all rights reserved.**


	6. Know and No

_Repairs on the Normandy are finishing up. This will be the last we see of the Normandy crew until they return to Earth and receive new orders._

* * *

 **"Tis absence, however, that makes the heart grow fonder."**

Miss Strickland

May 7th, 2187

 **Ash**

* * *

"Good to see you smile again, Ash," said Garrus. "I've been worried about you for the past day."

"Sorry about that," said Ashley. "Ever since I started sleeping in her quarters, I've been having strange dreams."

Garrus cocked his head. "Really?"

Ashley shrugged. "I suppose it just feels weird to be there, sleeping in her bed. Her stuff is still all around."

"Beats sharing bunk," said Garrus.

"Yea," said Ashley.

"You sure it's just dreams, that all that's bothering you?" asked Garrus.

Ashley considered the Turian for a moment, then realized the obvious. "Joker told you what he said to me."

"Yea, well, you know Joker. In any case, it would bother me," said Garrus. "I'd have my head wrapped in the possibilities, over analyzing everything that was said between us. It's the kind of thing that can drive you crazy if you let it."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to feel," admitted Ashley. "I mean, it's not that I didn't care for her, but I'm just not that way. I don't know why it's affecting me the way it is."

"Ah," said Garrus. "I see, well if it makes you feel any better, I don't think it matters what way you are. Listen, Shepard was alien to me. Understand that humans, well, ah, you aren't very attractive from a Turian standpoint.

You're short and stocky, and dull… I don't mean stupid, but your flesh is flat toned, too smooth. Some Turians, not all mind you, are attracted to Asari because of the texture of their skin, the occasional sheen that's vaguely reminiscent of a Turian, but humans, not so much."

"Are you trying to make me feel ugly?" asked Ashley.

"No, no, sorry, I went off the track," said Garrus. "What I'm trying to say is that someone like Shepard, well, the rules just don't apply. She had a beautiful soul. We were all in love with her in one way or another. She was that kind of person. If she ever propositioned me? I don't know. It's _crazy_ to think about, but how could I not take that opportunity?"

Ashley was surprised. "Is that why you and Tali?" she asked.

"Yea," said Garrus. "Turians and Quarians are perhaps closer in that regard so it makes more sense, sort of like humans and Asari, but it is still strange to most people, and it is not without its difficulties. In the end though, how you _are_ is less important than how you _feel_ in regards to an individual."

"I think I understand what you are saying," said Ashley. "Maybe I'm not being honest with myself, or maybe what I want most is just for Shepard to be alive."

"There's always that hope," said Garrus. "We haven't held a service yet because we don't know for sure. When we get back we should have news, and even then, well… We've been down this road before, haven't we?"

"But it didn't feel real last time," said Ashley. "This time it feels real to me, definitive, the end."

"I think you should pay Liara a visit," said Garrus.

Ashley shook her head. "Oh, I don't think that's a good idea, Garrus. We've never really been on the same page."

"That's all in your head," said Garrus. "I think it will do both of you good. It's times like these that push close friends apart and bring acquaintances close."

"Is that some sort of old Turian proverb?" asked Ashley.

Garrus laughed. "Oh, no, I just made that up on the spot. The thing about old proverbs, is that they're old. I prefer to look at it from a fresh perspective and go with my gut. Granted, it doesn't always work out the way you hope."

"And your gut tells you that I should talk to Liara," said Ashley.

"Exactly," said Garrus.

Ashley considered it for a moment. "Maybe tomorrow," she said. "But I think I'm going to hit the rack early tonight, try to get some sleep."

"Your prerogative," said Garrus. "Speaking of visitations, there's a certain Quarian I'm in the mood to chat with."

Ashley smiled. "I'll let you go as long as you promise to be a gentleman."

"I have no idea what that means," said Garrus.

Ashley cocked an eyebrow at Garrus. "It means behave yourself with Tali, she's like a little sister to me. I feel protective."

"Ah, yes, that I understand," said Garrus. "Trust me when I say, my intentions are only honorable. Now _her_ intentions, on the other hand, are a whole different matter, so I can't guarantee anything, not when I'm defenseless in the face of overwhelming force."

Ashley couldn't find a suitably clever comeback, so she let the matter drop. She said goodnight to Garrus and took the elevator up. When she reached the anteroom between the elevator and the cabin, she paused for a minute, realizing that she would give just about anything in the world to open the next door and see Commander Josslyn Shepard's face. When she finally did approach the sensor, the cabin proved to be empty and she immediately fell back into her gloomy mood.

She fidgeted around with the ship's duty roster for a minute before slipping out of her clothes and sliding into bed. Ashley meant to have the sheets laundered, but in all the activity it slipped her mind. It occurred to her that the bed still smelled like the Commander. She'd never given Shepard's scent much consideration before, but now she was acutely aware of it, or perhaps it was just a trick of her mind.

Ashley curled up with one of the pillows and inhaled deeply. The smell provoked pain, regret, and a deep sense of longing. Sleep eluded her.

* * *

An hour later Ashley found herself at Liara's door. She tapped the pad twice and waited for the occupant to respond. Worst thing that could happen was that Dr. T'soni might send her away. Actually, that might be the best thing.

The door opened and the Asari looked surprised.

"Commander Williams!" she exclaimed.

Liara was wearing a thin robe of white Thessian silk which barely concealed what was underneath. It would have been enticing under normal circumstances, but in her current state Dr. T'soni looked like a half-naked Asari street urchin from Omega who had been huddling in back alleys with the Vorcha. The robe was worn haphazardly, it was dingy, her eyes were bleary and shadowed by deep navy circles, her skin creased and careworn, but most of all Liara was _blue_.

It seemed like an obvious word regarding any Asari, but this was different type of blue, a dull, lifeless shade that indicated something was amiss. A cloud of woe encircled her, one that reminded Ashley of a pond of water gone stagnant. In human terms, it could be stated that she had a sickly pallor. It troubled the Lt. Commander.

She was angry with herself. Every member of the Normandy was her responsibility. It was inexcusable to be so caught up in her own problems that she had missed something as crucial as this. No wonder Garrus had given her such a strong push in Liara's direction.

"Liara, are you ok?" she asked.

Dr. T'soni cast her eyes down. "Please come in."

As Ashley pressed through the door, she noticed a distorted sound emitting from Dr. T'soni's intelligence console. Ashley couldn't understand what the Asari could be doing with her communication feeds. There were no com buoys available to receive a signal, and the Normandy's QE network was fried. The room was unusually cluttered, except for the port wall of the cabin.

The VI main processor sprouted dozens of new leads. Cables recently pulled through bulkheads from all sections of the ship were efficiently wired into Glyph. Ashley recognized Tali's handiwork at once. The new cables were routed with precision, bundled with care, and precisely labeled. Most makeshift repairs were a mess, function trumping any semblance of form, but Tali's impressive work would have passed original manufacturing inspection under the strictest Alliance code, and she had done all this in a matter of days.

Liara, suddenly conscious of her attire, made her way to the small bedroom area and slipped into something suitable for entertaining a guest. Ashley stared at the consoles politely. The static buzz continued, interrupted by a muffled voice that sounded like the Commander.

"What are you listening to?" asked Ashley. "What have you been working on that is so important?"

"Recordings from Shepard's last moments on the Citadel," said Liara.

Ashley was stunned. "What?"

"It is difficult to piece together," said Liara. "Glyph has been helping me clear up the signal and remove distortion when he's been available."

"How?" asked Ashley. "I mean, were you in contact with her?"

Liara shook her head. "I used all the tools of the Shadow Broker I had at my disposal. I implanted receivers in her omni-tool and backups in her suit. I had put them in a few weeks before to monitor her biotic use—she was pushing herself too hard these last few months."

"I noticed," said Ashley. "I'm surprised she let you put them in though."

"I convinced her based on what happened in the past with Sovereign, and then again with Vigil on Ilos. Her old omni-tool was scrambled by Sovereign's signal, but we did record what Vigil said on Ilos," said Liara.

"I didn't know that," said Ashley. "You think that would have proved something to the council."

"Well, she turned her omni-tool over to the council after Sovereign's attack, but when I checked in with them shortly after the Normandy was destroyed, they claimed there was no recording on it," said Liara.

"Bastards!" said Ashley.

"I have a suspicion that something happened to that omni-tool before the council had a chance to hear it," said Liara. "All it would take is one indoctrinated staff member, a secretary, or a technician. At the time we still did not understand the power of indoctrination."

"Or Udina," said Ashley. "I never trusted that man."

"With good reason," said Liara. "From what I gather from the original Shadow Broker's files, I believe it was Udina who gave the broker the Normandy's transponder codes in exchange for information he needed."

"WHAT?" shouted Ashley.

Liara sighed. "It's how the Collectors were able to locate the original Normandy so easily. They knew exactly where to find us. It didn't matter that our stealth system was engaged, the Shadow Broker had passed them the codes just a few days earlier."

"That son of a bitch!" said Ashley. "I wish that he was still alive so I could shoot him again."

Liara smiled at Ashley. "And I would want to be there to see it. If only had I had stumbled upon the information earlier, we might have been able to confront him and prevent the coup attempt. There was just so much to do."

"You did everything anyone could expect of you and more," said Ashley.

"It's why I insisted that Shepard wear the transmitters. We had to be thorough, leave nothing to chance. It would be irresponsible to make the same mistakes yet again," said Liara.

"I understand," said Ashley. "You wanted to be sure."

"Yes, for the next cycle," said Liara. "Had we failed, I wanted as much data as we could gather on how the Crucible might interact with the Catalyst. Also, Admiral Hackett had supreme faith in Shepard, he guessed that she would find a way to get onto the Citadel.

He wanted her vitals monitored, and a way to track her so he could send her assistance. It worked too, he was able to use the transmitter to find her location on the Citadel and broadcast a signal to her. She received his message, she even responded, though he didn't hear it at the time."

"And even if he had, there was no help left to send," said Ashley. "What did you hear, do you know what happened up there?"

"I can't say for sure," said Liara. "I did pick up fragments of an argument between Anderson, Shepard, and the Illusive Man."

Ashley snarled. "That Cerberus bastard was up there with her? How?"

"The Reapers allowed him to go there, I assume," said Liara. "He was indoctrinated. Shepard helped him see it in the end. Once he realized the Reapers were controlling him, he committed suicide so the Reapers couldn't use him to stop the Commander."

"Well I'll be damned," said Ashley. "It still doesn't make up for all that he did, but at least he had a shred of humanity left."

"I suppose we'll never know at what point he started working for the Reapers," said Liara.

"From the beginning," said Ashley. "When you start betraying your own race, breeding monsters, and experimenting on innocents, you are already working for the enemy. Do you remember those poor colonists on Nodacrux and Chasca?"

"I remember," said Liara. "I can't disagree with you."

"Anyway, how did she do it, do you know?" asked Ashley.

Liara appeared to be puzzled. "Do what?"

"Arm the Crucible, how did she manage it? I mean, it looks grim, but if anyone—she might have survived. Garrus still has some hope that Shepard might still be alive."

Tears spilled out of Liara's eyes. "No and no. No, I don't know, and no she is not alive," she said.

Ashley's heart sank. "That's a lot of no's."

Liara nodded. "Shepard was already dying, she'd lost so much blood. When the Catalyst engaged, the transmitter in her armor was destroyed. Tali had secured the backup transmitter in an alloy mesh protected by barriers within the inner shell of the armor. It could only have been destroyed if everything else inside the armor was burned away."

"Oh God, I'm so sorry Liara," said Ashley.

Liara rubbed her temples. "I meant to ask you if we could hold a service before we set out; for Shepard and for Admiral Anderson."

"Of course," said Ashley. "Anything you need, anything you want to talk about, I'm here for you. I'm sorry I've been out of sorts the past few hours. I guess it's all hitting me now."

"What Joker said is troubling you, isn't it?" asked Liara.

Ashley was exasperated. "Crap, does everyone know by now?"

"Well, it was Joker," said Liara. "I would know anyway of course, I am very good with information."

Ashley laughed. "So I hear. I hope it didn't make you feel bad. I mean, I'm sure it was all in the past."

"It was," said Liara. "We talked about it. She never hid things from me. You knew Shepard, she hated secrets. When I first met her, she was still trying to move on from you and she told me as much."

"Secrets get people killed," said Ashley. "She'd say that from time to time. So Joker was telling the truth."

"Of course," said Liara. "Have you ever known him to lie?"

"Never," said Ashley. "Shoot his mouth off, yes, but he always gets out of it. He's good with people."

"I wish I was as good with people," said Liara. "It's always been my weakness."

Ashley struggled to keep any hint of bitterness out of her tone. "You seemed to do pretty good with the Commander," she said.

"Not very," said Liara. "I was, well, I am not exactly the Asari cliché, at least as far as what most people think about us."

Ashley frowned. "I don't understand."

Liara blushed. "Shepard was a very physical person, not at all like the cliché either, that one that humans often say; a lover not a fighter. Well, she was both."

Ashley shook her head. "Sorry, I still don't follow."

"I often disengage," said Liara. "I did not always make myself accessible to her. I was always pushing her away. ' _Later_ ', I would say. It was always later. I had work to do, contacts to make. I could tell it frustrated her, even though she tried to hide it. She had a gift, no matter how much pressure was on her, she still knew how to make time for the people she loved. She drew energy from the interactions."

"Yea, I can see that," said Ashley. "She was definitely extroverted, the ultimate leader personality type. God, or I guess you might say, Goddess, pretty much designed her for greatness."

Liara flashed a wry smile at Ashley. Perhaps she found the Lt. Commander's beliefs rather quaint in light of all they had seen, still, she did not argue, she merely changed the subject.

"Yes," said Liara. "We were very different that way. Often, interacting with other people exhausts me. I never quite know what to say or do. Work is easy; looking for patterns, solving puzzles, allocating resources, but people are problematic, especially humans."

"I think she knew that about you," said Ashley. "And she loved you anyway."

Liara sighed. "In spite of my neglect. It is beginning to haunt me. _Later, later,_ I always said later, and now later will never come. If only I had taken just an extra moment, or two, there would be more memories that I could treasure."

Ashley was at a loss. "I'm sorry," was all that she could muster. "Is there anything I can do to help, do you need to talk to Dr. Chakwas? You don't look well. I'm not sure how your people handle grief, or depression."

Liara seemed confused, then her expression changed. "Oh, I see, you think my condition is an outward manifestation of my grief or loss."

"Something like that," said Ashley.

"No, it is entirely physiological, I assure you," said Liara. "It is part of the process, the way we conceive differs from humans. The initial few days are quite dramatic for Asari."

"Say, what," said Ashley. "Are you?"

"I am going to have a child," said Liara. "Shepard is the father, of course."

"Wow," said Ashley. "I mean, father, I don't understand that, but I'll just go with it. But really? A baby?"

Liara wiped tears from her eyes again, and smiled weakly. "Yes," she said. "It is what she wanted, well, she wanted several, but this is all I can do for her now. It was my final gift to her. I think, I hope she understood that."

"Will the child really have some of Shepard," wondered Ashley. "I don't understand how it works."

"It is a mystery, even to my people," said Liara. "And it is debated, but yes, I believe, or at least want to believe that there will be part of her in this child."

Ashley was overwhelmed. "That's great Liara, I mean, not great that she isn't here, but, this is a good thing."

Liara took Ashley's hand. "I would like it if you stayed in touch. You're a human female, an Alliance officer, the second human Spectre, and you were Shepard's friend. It would be nice if she could grow up with an example, someone who is like her father."

"Well, I doubt I measure up to that in any capacity," said Ashley. "But sure, I would love that. Of course I will."

Liara smiled, then moved closer to Ashley. The Lt. Commander embraced the Asari. It wasn't nearly as awkward as she expected. The human contact was nice, considering all she had been through.

' _Human contact,_ ' thought Ashley. That was what she felt. It was the same with Garrus and Tali. ' _They are not_ _aliens to me anymore._ '

* * *

 _Coming next: A Turian Primarch, a Human Admiral, and a Krogan Clan Leader walk into a jungle... and you'll have to wait till mid to end of the week for the punchline. ;)_


	7. Alpha Four

_I wrote this chapter on the suggestion of my friend ZG - It was a hell of a lot of fun, and ended up advancing the plot as well. Always a bonus!  
_

 _PS - CASI =_ Cipertine Armory Standard Issue, an all-purpose planetary expedition pack popular with Turian soldiers.

* * *

 _Let us keep the dance of rain our fathers kept and tread our dreams beneath the jungle sky.  
_

Arna Bontemps

May 12th, 2187

 **Adrien Victus**

* * *

Adrien questioned his own sanity. The dense jungle was a Turian's worst nightmare. Every leaf or frond in this infernal place was dripping with toxins. Insects that carried a variety of dangerous diseases churned through the air, thick and menacing, and the snakes, which were poisonous to Humans and Krogan, could be lethal to one of his kind. Levo-amino-acid venom, one could never predict the effect on a Turian or Quarian.

"Remember to watch for the banded kraits," warned Hackett. "They're the worst. Usually they're only out at night, but with all the particles in the atmosphere…"

Urdnot Wrex chuckled in baritone. "It's night all the time. Haha! I like this place human—feels homey."

"Wrex," said Adrien. "What is the purpose of this... _expedition_?"

"I'm showing old Steven here how to track down an alpha to make it easier to cull the rest of the pack. You don't want a bunch of padfeet out here alone thinking they're gonna bag themselves dinner only to find that they _are_ the dinner. Alpha's are cagey, they can rally a pack, turn them on the hunter, and ruin your day."

"Couldn't you just write it down?" suggested Adrien.

Wrex snorted. "We don't write things down. Krogan teach by example. You learn it as it happens, or you die."

"I see," said Adrien. "Wouldn't it be more practical to use a gunship with infrared tracking cameras?"

Wrex curled the tip of his snout in disdain and sniffed the air. "If there are any gunships left on earth that the Reapers didn't knock out, you would do well to find a better use for them than hunting varren. In any case, it is hungry civilians and foot soldiers who will need to do the work, and they won't have gunships. Besides, Primarch Victus, I want to see if you have a quad."

' _And now the truth; he's testing us,'_ thought Adrien. ' _Either that or he's brought us out here to kill us._ '

"Don't worry," said Wrex, as if he'd heard Adrien's fears out loud. "I'll keep your boney ass safe. Just follow my lead."

Hackett, who stood to Adrien's left, was peeking through the scope of his old fashioned rifle, apparently fascinated by something on the other side of the jungle ravine.

"See anything?" asked Wrex.

"Just a loris," said Hackett. "Tiny little thing, not many of those left alive. It's a damn shame, what the Reapers did to our world."

Wrex grunted. "You'll get used to it, eventually. Now, we'll travel the ridge of this ravine for a while, stay downwind. Then we'll cut across and double back. There's tracks all over so it won't be too hard, especially if you know what you're looking for."

"What are we looking for, specifically?" asked Adrien.

"Alpha's like to gather their packs around a clearing in a dense jungle," said Wrex. "They'll use the clearing for mating and such, and they'll also hide in the forest eaves and use it as a trap; wait for prey to stumble in, let its guard down as any creature is likely to do once it crawls out into the sunlight, then they spring on it. They'll come in waves."

Hackett nodded. "Clever bastards," he said.

"This jungle could have any number of such clearings," said Adrien.

"Yes," said Wrex. "But we'll pick up tracks, and varren never stray far from water. So any streams, rivers, ponds; they'll pick a clearing near one of those."

"Let's go," said Hackett.

Wrex took the lead so he could use the omni-blade on his battered assault rifle to cut away brush and thorns. Adrien identified the weapon as an old mark ten Kolvalyov—a curious choice for the Krogan clan leader. As Hackett fell back to guard their rear flank, Adrien retrieved his Phaeston from the mag lock on his right shoulder and dropped it to the low ready position. He kept a safe distance behind Wrex, cautious of where he was walking.

The jungle was uncomfortably warm and dank. An ugly green insect placed itself in a vexing orbit around his head. As they moved south, the insect moved with them, constantly humming in and then zooming out as Adrien swatted at it. This went on for some time until he finally began to track its elliptical flight patterns. Signaling to his companions his intent to fire, he caught it in his sight on recession and blasted it out of the sky with a well-controlled burst from his Phaeston. The Primarch could not recall, at any point of his life, such overwhelming satisfaction for so insignificant a kill.

Hackett chuckled and bobbed his head in approval. Wrex flapped one of his lids at Adrien, some Krogan expression that eluded him. They set out once more and soon found themselves descending into a pit. A malodorous scent hung in the air. Adrien was unfamiliar with many of the smells of this planet, but the odors of death and feces were universal and quite unmistakable. They slowed, readied their guns, and stared down into the pit.

A serious of crude shelters had been erected in the midst of the foliage; scavengers or refugees perhaps? He could see no signs of movement or life, but he did descry pale bones—human bones, and many of them. They were crawling with small ants. Wrex relaxed and they all moved forward into a patch of clean carnage. Poking at the bones, Hackett let out a sigh.

"They were hiding from the Reapers," he said. "Mostly women and children, little ones, huddled down here for months or more; probably sick and starving."

Adrien felt sympathy for the Admiral. He had heard similar accounts of horror from the last reports he received from Palaven. Winning this war had preoccupied them for so long that they had begun to take the losses for granted without considering the manner in which the victims perished. The survivors of this war, those accounted lucky, would be marked.

"It must have been in the early stages of the war," said Adrien.

Wrex growled. "No, this was recent, probably the past few days." He kicked at a bone, turning it over in the loose forest soil. "See those marks? Varren teeth. They were still alive, varren got into em', probably came in the night. Bad way to go."

"Son of a bitch," said Hackett.

Adrien scowled, trying to keep away visions of starving human children being devoured by savage varren. They'd lived through the war only to die like this. It was unjust.

Wrex weaved through the bones, acknowledging them with deference. "This is a Krogan style hunt now," he said. "It isn't a game or survival anymore. These bones cry for _vengeance_. We'll take down the alpha and the rest of the pack to honor them."

There was an air of sentiment and nobility in the old Krogan. He actually appeared to be enraged at the deaths of these humans who were unknown and alien to him. Perhaps… ah! Adrien remembered. In many Krogan traditions, the bones of their deceased were piled on top of graves rather than interred under the ground. The sight of these bones must have been a touchstone that stirred a memory, and therefore acted to ignite empathy; that it was dead children would also invoke the wound of the Genophage.

Adrien hoped that Wrex did not make the next leap, one that would recall Turians. He glanced up at the Krogan clan leader with concern. Fortunately, Wrex was staring vacantly at a skull, lost in some other contemplation that, spirits providing, would have no ill connotations for the Primarch's people.

Again, Adrien was reminded of the risk he was taking, not only in regards to his position, but also his entire race. If the Asari and Salarians interpreted their actions as a maneuver against the security of their civilization, he endangered alienating or provoking long standing allies. If the Asari or Salarians lashed out and marked his people with dishonor, then the situation could become grave for future generations.

A dishonored Turian was an angry Turian, prone to rash action. It was just such a societal stain of dishonor that provoked the Unification war, pitting his own kind against each other. It would be unforgiveable if his actions this day put the Turians, Krogan, and Humans on a path to conflict with the Asari and Salarians. The latter two races would have little chance of surviving such a conflict unless they turned their science again to nefarious action, which was an entirely feasible outcome.

None of this would do, and he would not have risked it but for the looming possibility of a Krogan threat. Wrex would not live forever and there was no way of knowing what the intent of a future Krogan clan leader would be, therefore Hackett's plan was the most prudent course of action while also being the most unorthodox. It was the kind of bold move only the Primarch truly appreciated. The payoff was a galaxy at peace, a new order that was unassailable and able to meet the challenge of any threat that presented itself. The benefits to all races, including Asari and Salarian, far outweighed the risk in his estimation.

The beauty of the plan was that it turned the fears of the galaxy into the strength of the galaxy by encouraging the Krogan to expand in population without immediately redressing their warlike nature. It was not a foolproof strategy, and in the thousands of years that followed it could haunt the galaxy with a vengeance, but it was truly the best path ahead. Mayhap, in those thousand years or more, evolution would provide the answer. If the Krogan thrived through peace and friendship, what wisdom would there be in returning to conquest and hatred? He hoped they would see such, and that other descendants, Turian, Human, Asari, and so many others, did not curse them for fools whence crushed under the heel of Krogan oppression.

"Let's go find these things," said Wrex.

The Krogan led them up out of the ruins of the refuge and back to the ridgeline. Adrien felt better after they left the carnage behind. However, it did recall something he had intended to ask Hackett.

"Admiral," he said.

"Just Steven out here," said Hackett.

The Primarch tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Steven, have you found any more survivors on the Citadel?"

"Just a few dozen stragglers here and there. Kids that crawled into the ducts to hide, workers who managed to shut themselves into cargo boxes in warehouses, and a few refugees. There is one good story though," said Hackett.

Wrex, who had been listening in, snorted. "Eh, what's that?"

"One of the Cerberus era Normandy crew, Shepard's yeoman, a Ms. Chambers, managed to save herself and some refugee children. A varren, of all things, was involved," said Hackett.

Adrien chuckled. "A varren, how?"

"One of the other Normandy crew members left it in Ms. Chambers care when she shipped out to the front. It was adopted from Thessia, so it was biotic breed. When the Reapers were killing or processing everyone on the Citadel, the woman managed to get several children into one of the Keeper access corridors, and that damn varren guarded the corridor; killed all the husks that tried to get at them," said Hackett.

"How old were the children?" asked Adrien.

"Young," said Hackett. "But I don't recall specific ages. I do know that there were Asari and Turian children with her as well. When our cleanup crews found them, they were all in a bad state. The Reapers had put down the varren and were closing in on them just as the Crucible fired. They stayed hidden for a few days after, too terrified to come out."

Wrex interrupted. "This is a good spot to cross the ravine, be ready for anything."

Hackett and the Primarch readied their weapons as Wrex plunged down into the thick undergrowth. The ravine was clustered with brambles and swarming with bugs. It was slow going. The bottom was muddy. The Krogan powered through with ease, accustomed to such terrain, Adrien used his long legs to his advantage, but Hackett struggled. The Primarch had to stop to help the old Admiral twice.

Climbing up the other side also proved to be a challenge. The soil was loose, difficult for the squat, heavy Krogan to get a foothold. Taking the lead, Adrien scrambled to the top and affixed a climbing cable from his CASI pack to a large root system. He spooled it down the ravine so that Wrex and Hackett could reach it. Soon, both the Krogan and the Human stood near Adrien.

"Handy that," said Hackett.

Wrex snuffed. "Clever birds, always have a trick at the ready."

"Lucky for you," said Adrien.

"I'd have made it sooner or later," said Wrex. "I was jus' trying to avoid getting dirty."

Hackett gazed off into the forest. "Where to next?"

Wrex sniffed. "I smell water, this way. We can talk and walk, at least for now."

Talk and walk wasn't an invitation to pleasantries, it meant the Krogan wanted to discuss the business at hand. Adrien was just as eager to gauge the earnestness of the alien leaders. If they weren't fully committed, the plan was doomed to failure.

Hackett started. "Are you certain you want to attempt the journey to Irune?"

"I must," said Adrien. "If our plan is to succeed we need the Volus to back it. The presence of Turian fleets will rally them to whatever cause I support by providing them with security. Security is important to a Volus. They are not like us, they always feel vulnerable, and when they feel vulnerable they are slow to act. We cannot afford slow right now."

Adrien stared up at the menacing trees. "In addition, Omar Ker will be an excellent port of call for my men. No offense to Earth, but your flora and fauna are not comforting to a Turian."

Hackett nodded. "And hopefully the Volus will begin work on their Mass Relay so that you can get to Palaven shortly thereafter. I will feel better knowing you are safe on your world."

"Fortunately I am in communication with Palaven through our two surviving QEC systems. I've given them instructions to prioritize work on the Mass Relay. If the Salarians and Asari hold up their end, the heart of Citadel space should be reconnected within the next five years," said Adrien.

"All but Tuchanka," grumbled Wrex.

"That is precisely the point," said Adrien. "If our plan works, you won't be nearly as far behind as the Salarians will expect."

"But they'll still be up to their tricks," said Wrex.

"Yes," said Hackett. "That is a given, but your people must learn to anticipate these tricks and counter them patiently. If you get angry and lash out, then it only strengthens the Salarian position."

"And creates more sympathy for their viewpoint with other council members," said Adrien. "There are still too many hard feelings between our people, and I will not be Primarch forever. In order for this to work, the Krogan will have to be patient and trust in the plan."

"You do not understand Krogan," said Wrex.

Adrien sighed. "My fears tell me that I do understand the Krogan and that this won't work, but my hope is that my fears underestimate your kind, and that this plan will change the galaxy for all time."

Wrex grumbled something to himself.

"What was that?" asked Hackett?

"Oh, something I once said to Shepard that bears repeating," said Wrex. "Often plans turn out better than you feared, but worse than you hoped."

"Wise council," said Adrien.

"I think this will happen much the same," said Wrex. "There will be obstacles. Some of em' we'll see coming, but others will sneak up on us like a pyjak in a tactical cloak."

"We'll have to be ready for anything," agreed Hackett.

Wrex continued. "What is most important though is that our core clans are strong. That is how I turned it around on Tuchanka. I gathered the strongest clans I could and held them together. The benefit became readily apparent to all. Eventually, all who opposed us either joined or fell away, except one, our chief threat."

"Who were they, and how did you handle it?" wondered Adrien.

Wrex turned to them and expanded his jowls into the approximation of a Krogan smile. It was slightly unnerving. Adrien could sense a story coming, one that involved…

"Shepard, of course," said Wrex. "Clan Weyrlock was my problem. They ran the Blood Pack and more. We couldn't overwhelm them by brute strength, and they had schemes going on that could have ended it all, and then one day Shepard lands on Tuchanka, back from the dead. She was looking for help with a Krogan under her command, but that's a tale for another day.

What was important was that she was also looking for a Salarian scientist. I knew that Weyrlock had a Salarian working on some secret experiments. Normally I wouldn't have let aliens near them, but it was Shepard after all, so I pointed her in their general direction. Those poor bastards never stood a chance. She tore through them in one afternoon's work, killed their chief, and acquired the data we eventually used to cure the Genophage."

"Spirits," said Adrien. "I never knew the full story of where that cure came from. What an extraordinary soldier she was."

"I don't know where we'd be without her," said Hackett.

"Extinct—my people, your people, all of us—just like the cycles that came before us," said Wrex.

"But now we have to go it alone," said Hackett. "We'll have to be determined."

"If our core is strong," said Wrex. "The rest will fall in line or be _destroyed_."

Adrien did not like the way Urdnot Wrex spoke the last word of his sentence. Was he inferring a preference? No matter, they were committed now. The Krogan Clan Leader was surprisingly wise, and crafty. He made for a powerful ally.

"Then it is agreed," said Adrien. "We go forward with the plan."

"Agreed," said Hackett.

Wrex sniffed the air. "Agreed, and one other thing…"

"What's that?" asked Adrien.

Wrex readied his rifled. "I smell varren. They're close. Let's go get em'."

The Primarch and Admiral Hackett followed the Krogan as he stalked his way through the jungle. Soon they broke into a clearing and the snarls of feral varren surrounded them. The trio raised their weapons as the first of the pack emerged from the trees. They took down over a dozen in the first minute, more shortly thereafter. By the time they lured the alpha out of the eaves, the field was littered with corpses.

Wrex charged the alpha himself and took the beast down with his bare hands while the Primarch and Hackett covered him. Crushing the neck of his prey with frightening power, the old Krogan howled in victory. It was then that Adrien began to believe the plan was going to work. By the time they called in support squads to collect and process the varren, they had collected enough meat to ration out to hundreds of starving refugees.

In later years the Turian Primarch would recall the hunt fondly, forgetting his many infected cuts, and the fever that plagued him for a week after. On that day in the jungles of Earth, three clans became one and were the stronger for it. What they could not foresee, however, was how soon the galaxy would have to rely on this strength.

* * *

 _Up Next: " **QG3** " - Cerberus is dead, right? At least that's what Dr. Gavin Archer presumes, until he finds himself listening to an unwanted tutorial on the game of chess._


	8. QG3

_Cerberus is back, or what's left of them anyway. Should have let Aria choke him out Shep!_

* * *

" _Plant a demon seed, you raise a flower of fire._ "

U2

May 15th, 2187

 **Dr. Gavin Archer**

* * *

Gavin Archer had a bad feeling. The shuttle, an older UT-37 Dzu-Teh, rattled obnoxiously each time the thrusters were applied. Its Mass Effect field wasn't the most stable and these old eezo reactors were noted for their poor shielding. In a firefight, the biggest danger to the crew was a radiation spill. Maximum FTL was an anemic one-hundred and fifty times light speed. Trips between systems took days, even weeks. It was for this reason that the UT-37's had been out of commission for over a decade. When one did occasional come across an old Dzu-Teh, it was exclusively in the civilian sector, or purchased on the cheap by some low-rent mercenary group. Gavin understood that the Alliance had taken heavy losses, still he was surprised that they had resorted to taking old craft out of mothballs.

The soldiers who surrounded him were silent. They were tall as Turians, yet built like Krogans. He categorized them as N6's, perhaps some special commando group assigned to Hackett. Now that the war was over and his work on the Crucible had proved valuable, he was hoping that he might get a reprieve from alliance command for his past crimes and affiliation with Cerberus. With the relays down, and the fleets stranded in Sol, the Alliance could ill afford to send good scientists to prison.

Gavin hoped he would be assigned to help rebuild Arcturus, or perhaps he would be stationed at Jump Zero. However, it was likely he would be thrown into the frenzy at the relays. He'd already heard nightmare stories from old acquaintances; crews scrambling to find pieces that had been blown clear, Salarians and Asari fighting over the best method to bring the quantum shields back online, and the damn Quarians who kept trying to pilfer parts for their journey home.

Dr. Archer was running all the possibilities through his head. It might take years to get a relay online. Just figuring out to re-engage the massive cores was a nightmare in engineering. If they did it wrong, made the wrong calculation, it might blow when coming back online. The resulting explosion would destroy the entire system, all the fleets, and Earth itself. It would be an ironic ending for the cycle that finally defeated the Reapers—extinction by Mass Relay.

The shuttle bumped onto a landing deck, the engines powered down, and one of the marines prodded him with the blunt end of a rifle. Gavin moved in the general direction that the soldier indicated. He was liking his position less and less. Something was definitely wrong. When the shuttle bay doors slid open and he stumbled out, his worst fear came to light. He was surrounded by white, gold, and black uniforms.

A Cerberus officer greeted him. Her eyes were cold. "Welcome aboard the Roraima, Dr. Archer, my name is Lt. Commander Nicholas. I will be conducting your re-orientation, but first, General Petrovsky would like to speak with you."

Gavin cast his eyes down in disbelief. "Petrovsky, but I thought he was in Alliance custody, I thought…"

Commander Nicholas grinned. "That Cerberus was destroyed? No, Dr. Archer, though the Illusive Man underestimated the Reapers and was subsequently indoctrinated, along with many other primary cells, there were other parts of our organization that survived. Did you not read the reports on Benning? We were attempting to thwart the Illusive Man's attempts to build his forces."

Gavin shook his head. "I read the reports. There was a rogue branch of Cerberus responsible for the slaughter of civilians."

Lt. Commander Nicholas sighed. "Unfortunate, but necessary. We saved them from a fate worse than death. The Illusive Man was integrating them, repurposing them into Reaper slaves. Had we not intervened, our indoctrinated primary cells would have had the forces necessary to take the Citadel during Udina's coup attempt and you and I would not be having this discussion."

"I am not going to cooperate with you," Gavin declared. "So you might as well shoot me now and be done with it."

Nicholas raised a gun to Gavin's face. He flinched, shut his eyes and waited for the end. It never came. One eye opened involuntarily. Morbid curiosity perhaps?

Lt. Commander Nicholas holstered her weapon. "Enticing proposition, maybe I'll take you up on it at a later date, but for now, orders are orders. The General wants to see you; this way."

She led Gavin through the corridors of the advanced cruiser. Two guards followed close behind with weapons at his back. He could not help but notice the… finer assets of the Lt. Commander from his current vantage point. The tight uniform she was wearing left little to the imagination. Nicholas brought to mind another Cerberus operative, one that accompanied Shepard onto Aite all those months ago, a Ms. Lawson if he recalled her name correctly. Gavin wondered if the Illusive Man had been growing beautiful, deadly women in some sort of tank in his base. Perhaps they were all clones or AI's?

The distinct lack of manpower on the ship was evident as they passed the crew quarters. Gavin estimated that the cruiser was likely running at half its crew compliment. There wouldn't be many Cerberus squads left alive. All the indoctrinated soldiers had died along with the husks and the rest of the Reaper's creatures. It was a shame, a waste of human potential.

A brief and distinctly silent trip up the elevator placed them on the bridge deck, and ultimately he was led to the captain's quarters, an elaborate suite guarded by two fearsome commandoes. He was searched thoroughly, roughed up a little, and promptly pushed through the door. Nicholas stuck the muzzle of her Talon pistol into his back and followed him into the room.

The light was low in the quarters. Spotless silver walls reflected a red-orange glow emanating from several strange devices. The Starboard wall was lined with aquariums, each a microscopic alien environment that housed a dangerous looking insect or reptile; presuming of course that such creatures could be classified as such. General Oleg Petrovsky was seated in a straight backed chair at what appeared to be a small conference table. An elaborate hardwood chessboard was the centerpiece. He appeared to be engaged in a game.

There was a pause before Petrovsky acknowledged him. "Do you play chess, Dr. Archer?" he asked.

"Only in passing," said Gavin.

"A pity," said Petrovsky. "It is a hobby of mine, an _obsession_ in fact. I had hoped that a man with your mind might have an interest. Still, would you indulge me if I turn the conversation to chess for a few moments?"

Gavin shrugged. "Your audience, as they say, is captive."

Petrovsky smiled. "Oh, well played Dr. Archer, indeed, well played."

"Don't get too clever, or I'll shoot one of your legs off," warned Nicholas.

"Lt. Commander, would you mind leaving us alone?" asked Petrovsky.

"Sir, we don't know who he's been in contact with," said Nicholas.

General Petrovsky's expression became stern. "Michelle, please, I can handle myself. Wait outside the door, I'll call for you when we've finished our conversation."

Lt. Commander Nicholas obeyed the order and ushered herself out. Gavin was alone with the General, though it availed him little. Petrovsky was a trained soldier, and a fabled one at that. He was, once upon a time, a hero of the Alliance, a man who had defied the Turian military and fought them to a standstill, thereby gaining humanity its first measure of respect in the galaxy. His defection to Cerberus had been a blow to Alliance command, one that they tried to hide for some time.

"What do you want?" asked Gavin.

"Please," said Petrovsky. "First, chess. If I may ask, do you know how to set up a chess board to begin play?"

Gavin shrugged. "Yes, pawns up front, all others in the back row, rooks on the end, then knights, then bishops, king and queen in the middle, queen on her own color."

"Aha! Yes you are correct, of course," said Petrovsky. "As they say in latin, _servat regina colorem_. In algebraic, white queen on D1 and black queen on D8. And of course, the most important piece in chess is?"

"The king," said Gavin.

"Yes, yes, the king," said Petrovsky. "Though that is the curious thing now, isn't it? Because the king is quite weak and must be protected at all times. He is your vulnerability, your liability, whereas the queen is your strength: the most powerful piece on the board at any given time. She can strike from one end of the board or another, possessing all the powers of a rook and a bishop. Do you know why this is so relevant to our current position here in the galaxy?"

Gavin struggled to see the connection. "Because I am here as a prisoner, and you are in the position of power, because you're good at chess?"

Petrovsky sighed in disappointment. "No, Dr. Archer, do you take me for an egotistical maniac? I am not the Illusive Man. The answer to the question I proposed is this: we live because the Reapers, and even for that matter the Illusive Man, failed to understand that the most important piece in chess is the queen piece. They noticed her, but they did not account for her at all times. In the end, she was their undoing."

"Ok," said Gavin.

"Coincidental to that point, do you know the most famous move in the history of chess?" asked Petrovsky.

Frustrated, Gavin shook his head. "As I said, I only know chess in passing."

General Petrovsky barreled forward, heedless of Gavin's disinterest. "It is QG3, or, if you will, black queen to G3. It was a match between Frank Marshall and Stepan Levitsky in the early twentieth century. Levitsky, the white player, was in a good position with his king on G1 behind a wall of pawns, protected on his left flank by a rook, and his queen guarding the G2 pawn from across the board. Marshall seemingly moved his queen into a precarious situation where she was surrounded on all sides, able to be taken by two separate pawns or the white queen. However, if Levitsky were to make any move on the black queen, he would lose the game in two or three moves as Marshall had his black knight and rook covering all possibilities, likewise, if Levitsky did not move on the queen, say he moved his rook away, he would lose the game via QxH2."

Gavin's mind was a blank. "I see," he lied.

Petrovsky furrowed his forehead in apparent disdain. "My point is, that Marshall won the game by being aggressive with his queen, even offering her up as a sacrifice for victory."

"I see," said Gavin.

"No you do not," said Petrovsky. "In our situation, the Reapers were Levitsky, Hackett was Marshall, and Shepard was the queen. What happened was not unlike QG3. She made the ultimate sacrifice for the better of us all."

Gavin still failed to grasp where Petrovsky was going. He protested. "I'm a scientist, not a strategist, General."

Petrovsky smiled. "I know, and not just any scientist, but one with experience in communicating with a hybrid human-machine consciousness."

Gavin frowned. "I presume that is your opening. Will you explain to me what this is all about?"

"I just did," said Petrovsky. "Cerberus has need of your services again, Dr. Archer. I have a new project for you."

"Go fish," said Gavin. "You can kill me if you want, but I'll never work for Cerberus again."

Petrovsky sighed. "Please, Dr. Archer. I understand your hesitation. I also ran afoul of the Illusive Man in my final days. He abandoned our principals and became enslaved to the machines, nearly to the undoing of us all, but it is time to move past these grievances. Humanity has been weakened, Dr. Archer, even now forces are moving to subvert the whole human race to alien interests."

Gavin could not believe that Petrovsky was pulling the old party line out of retirement. Had he no shame? Did he really think that xenophobia was relevant, in a galaxy where all races had recently faced extinction and overcame it together?

"General Petrovsky, with all due respect, I am not interested in whatever noble cause you care to attach to Cerberus. I'll not be your puppet any longer," he said.

Petrovsky stood up from his seat, glaring at Gavin. "So be it," he said. "If you shall not help me, I must turn to your brother. David is his name, yes? I do believe he has some expertise in this area. I have agents ready to extract him even as we speak. In the meantime, I will have Lt. Commander Nicholas escort you to the airlock. Farewell, Dr. Archer."

"Wait!" shouted Gavin. "You leave David out of this, he's suffered enough."

Petrovsky rubbed his chin with his hand. "I quite agree with you, you see. This is why I summoned you in your brother's place. It was an act of generosity on my part, of mercy, and you rebuked it offhand."

Gavin gritted his teeth. Petrovsky had him all along. He could not turn his back on David. He could never let his brother fall back into the hands of Cerberus.

"I will do as you ask," he said.

Petrovsky moved a piece on his chess board and grinned wolfishly. "Queen to F2, check, and from here I expect my opponent to resign rather than engage in any further futility. I look forward to our future accomplishments together, Dr. Archer."

Gavin turned away from Petrovksy and accepted defeat, for now.

* * *

 _Up Next: Lt. Susan Rizzi, N7 Fury in_ " **The Mouse and the Bear** "


	9. The Mouse and the Bear

_I've introduced an OC who's not an OC. If any of you played the Citadel DLC, you'll spot an N7 Fury Adept arguing with a req officer over a shotgun. Since my Shep was an Adept, I thought humorously at the time "Hey! My replacement after the Reapers kill me..." Turned out to be prophetic._

* * *

" _If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself."  
_

George Orwell

May 23rd, 2187

 **Susan Rizzi**

* * *

Miranda didn't exactly walk so much as slinked through the light gravity, or at least it appeared that way from Susan's perspective. It was exceptionally attractive in a rather disturbing sort of way. Why disturbing? Was it that she'd never looked at a woman that way before, with a touch of lust, or was it simple jealousy? Susan was a mouse, a well-trained, lean, muscular, biotic mouse, but a mouse nonetheless. The lieutenant was the antithesis of everything about Miranda Lawson.

Susan came from a poor family, was never exceptionally good in school, and spent most of her childhood in hospitals. Juvenile pilocytic astrocytoma, a fancy way of saying brain cancer. In her case it had been thrice recurrent. The first time at age five, the second at age nine, and the third time at age fifteen. She'd been cancer free for nine years now, but the ghosts still remained. Occasional dizzy spells, migraines, and most of all, the ever present fear that it might return.

If her hand developed tremors, cancer scare. If she came down with a virus, cancer scare. An ache in her leg, fuzzy vision, cancer scare, cancer scare. She kept it to herself for the most part, but it was maddening. She coped by spending her life over-analyzing every situation. It was painful, often detrimental to her relationships, and certainly an impediment to her career. Fortunately, times being what they were, the alliance was in need of powerful biotics, especially biotics who were seemingly unafraid of death.

How little they knew! Well, she wasn't afraid of death on the battlefield, because there weren't any personnel associations on the battlefield, aside from glory. The ghosts were all in her head, literally, but the battlefield was virgin territory and in that space she was fearless. She felt as if she owned it, that it was her canvas to paint on—in blood and fury.

From the beginning of her military career she was ahead of the curve. Her biotic potential was measured among the highest in her generation. When Susan was a teenager Cerberus made many attempts to recruit her, but the Alliance moved quickly to put a wall around her and place her on the fast track. It was the Alliance who saw to her medical treatment and the welfare of her family, especially after her father died.

Susan was the first of a new breed of biotic soldiers. She'd spent almost her entire military career in the ITC, first at the villa, and then running high risk assignments. She was just wrapping up her Advanced Zero G combat training, the last obstacle for the coveted N7 rank, when the Reapers hit Earth. In the months that followed she'd been deployed to so many battlefields across the galaxy she'd lost count of the systems, let alone the battles.

Now here she was, reassigned to special ops and working with a Cerberus defector. Susan wasn't sure how she felt about Lawson; all the same orders were orders. Her CO, Commander Briggs, told her that the old man wanted her on this. She found it hard to believe that Admiral Hackett even knew who she was, but if Briggs felt it was important enough to invoke the old man, then she'd approach the assignment with due diligence.

She'd only had a few hours to get up to speed on Miranda Lawson, and unfortunately she hadn't gotten deep into the dossier by the time she was deployed on the assignment. Lawson was nothing like the woman described in the reports. She was quiet, reflective, and friendly of all things. She'd greeted Susan with genuine courtesy, if not warmth. All the dossiers had described an ice queen, a ruthless Cerberus bitch who would stop at nothing to achieve her objective. Perhaps the Miranda she had known these past few hours was a guise, an act that concealed what was underneath. All Susan could do was watch and wait.

' _And try not to stare at her ass,_ ' Susan reminded herself. What had gotten into her? She supposed the stress of the war, or maybe the fact that it had been nearly three years since things went sour with Peter. She hadn't thought of him in some time. Was he still alive down there? Putting it out of her mind, she got back to the business at hand. They'd finally finished walking the length of the outstation rampart.

"Will he be here?" asked Susan.

"Yea, all my contacts say he's been here for a few days, no signs of moving on," said Miranda.

In the days following the war, Alliance Command had realized that Earth was too dangerous to house excess refugees. Reaper corpses were proving to be toxic in a variety of ways. All personal not immediately involved in the ongoing cleanup had been assigned to makeshift emergency orbital shelters, or EOS stations. Gravity was weak and food was scarce, but there were beds to sleep on, medical care, and most important of all—alcohol. This was regarded as either the most brilliant or worst idea the Alliance had ever come up with, depending on whom you asked.

As soon as they entered the lounge, Miranda spotted her prey. "There he is," she said.

Miranda made way over to the table while Susan did her damnedest to keep her eyes up high. The man sitting at the table was best described as old and battered. He looked like the very embodiment of an early era cargo freighter that had seen its share of space dust and pirate attacks. His arms and shoulders were knotted and gnarled so tightly that she felt like an emergency call to a dozen Asari consorts was in order, or perhaps a Krogan masseuse if there was such a thing. His face was weathered, a veritable patchwork of surgical scars and tissue. The right eye was either a poorly done surgical reconstruction, or an odd choice in implants. He reminded her of a scarred up old lion she'd once seen in a wildlife refuge. Like the lion, he'd lost one eye, and yet he'd kept his pride.

As they drew near, he looked Miranda up and down. "What the fuck-all are you doing here, Lawson?" he asked.

"Zaeed!" exclaimed Miranda. "Good to see you old friend."

He kicked one chair out from under the table, then another, acknowledged them with a scant nod, and took a drink from his glass. Miranda sat down in her chair, Susan in the other; the man ignored Lawson and stared Susan down.

"So who's the mousey girl here," he asked Miranda.

"This is Lt. Susan Rizzi. She's alliance, N7, so be nice Zaeed," said Lawson.

"It's ok," said Susan. "I get ' _mousey_ ' a lot; I own it."

Zaeed chortled. "Well with a mop of hair like that, the big nose, and those tiny eyes, you really don't have much fucking say in it, do you?"

Miranda was annoyed. "Please, Zaeed, there's no need to insult my friend."

Susan shrugged. "It's ok, really. My dad used to call me mouse when I was little for the same reasons, though he put it more delicately."

The old mercenary laughed. "I'm not much for delicate, missy, but don't take it wrong. As mice go, you're a pretty one."

Susan unexpectedly blushed. There was something about this man she liked. She should be insulted, but it didn't sting at all coming from him. What was this? He could hardly be called handsome, well, perhaps in his youth but not anymore. Was it that he looked on the outside like she felt on the inside, or maybe it was the gruff manliness that reminded her of her father?

Her cheeks turned even a deeper shade of red. ' _Don't go there Susan,_ ' she thought.

Miranda cocked an eyebrow at her and changed the subject. "We need your help, Zaeed."

"I can't imagine what for," he said. "It's not like I can pick up a hammer and bang on a fucking relay now, can I?"

"No," said Miranda. "Listen, Zaeed, we have Batarian problems."

Zaeed laughed. "Batarians, are you telling me that there are still enough Batarian bastards left to cause problems? From what I hear about em', they don't have a pot left to piss in, and even if they did, they wouldn't have enough piss to fill it."

Miranda sighed. "I could have done without that image, but you're right. Listen though, after the war there was a rebellion on the remaining ships. Members of the Hegemony were overthrown and pushed out the airlocks."

"About _fucking_ time," said Zaeed. "Why would you have a problem with that?"

"One ship, loyal to the Hegemony, escaped," said Miranda. "One of the Batarian captains reached out to our Alliance Secretary. He believes they may try to go out in a blaze of glory, make one final strike at their perceived enemies."

"Oh that's just goddamn beautiful," said Zaeed. "But why the hell are you bringing this to me?"

"Hackett has had people scouring the entire solar system for days," said Miranda. "And nothing…"

The old mercenary leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the table. "That so," he said.

Susan interjected herself into the conversation. "You know more about Batarians than almost any man alive. We were hoping you might push us in the right direction."

Zaeed put his arms on the table. "Well, see here, I might be able to help you, but, I'd like something out of this."

"I'll try to do what I can," said Miranda.

"Until those little Volus bastards get the banking system up and running again, I've got no access to the credits I've been saving up," said Zaeed. "And I want off this shithole."

"I can arrange that," said Miranda. "In fact, you can pack your stuff up and we'll head out now. The Alliance has a makeshift headquarters set up for all the post war, anti-sabotage ops that are running. You can grab a bunk there once Lt. Rizzi logs you into the system."

Susan hit enter on her omni-tool and sent the data she'd just punched in, "already done," she said.

"That was goddamn fast," said Zaeed.

"N7 training," chirped Susan. "Alliance spared no expense on me."

Zaeed and Miranda glanced at each other and exchanged half-bemused smiles before they both fell into melancholy. Suddenly, the air over the table was heavy.

"Something I said?" wondered Susan.

"Don't worry about it," said Miranda. "You just reminded us of someone we miss."

* * *

"I can't believe I let you two rope me into this bullshit," said Jacob. "I've got a kid on the way, a son Miranda, and I aim to be a good father to him. If I die out here…"

"You'll be fine, Jacob," said Miranda. "We don't even know if there's anything out here, and if there is you'll be staying in the shuttle. All you have to do is fly us in and fly us out. If the stealth is as good as they say on this thing, it'll be no trouble at all."

"It is," explained Susan. "These UT-47S shuttles are as hard to spot as a Normandy class frigate."

"I've always wanted to fly one of these modded Kodiaks," said Jacob. "So at least there's one good thing about being dragged into this."

"Is it because of what they're called?" asked Zaeed.

"Oh yea, the Black Bear, I'm pretty cool with that, but the stealth is what really gets me jacked," said Jacob.

"Speaking of, make sure to drop out of FTL well away from the system," said Susan.

Miranda snorted. "Don't worry, Lt. Rizzi, Taylor knows what he's doing."

Susan was annoyed with Miranda's bitchy mood, but rather than return the sniping, she backed away. "I didn't mean to, I mean…"

"Don't apologize," said Jacob. "Miranda gets this way sometimes, though I kinda hoped she was past it. So what's eating you Lawson?"

Miranda exhaled. "Really, not your business, Jacob."

"Oh, hell no," said Jacob. "That's not going to cut it Miranda. You don't get to drag me out on this crazy mission, away from my pregnant wife, then sit and pout for hours on end and tell me it's none of my business. It doesn't work that way."

"You've been wound tighter than a Turian bureaucrat ever since we piled into this hopper," said Zaeed.

"Really, it's nothing," said Miranda.

"Either spill it, or I turn this brick around and we head back to the Sol system," said Jacob. "You know I will, and I'm warning you, my bullshit detector is on, so I want the truth."

Miranda sighed and kicked the storage locker in front of her. "Shepard for one," she said. "Damn it, I wanted her to be here to celebrate this victory with us."

"Yea, I get that," said Jacob. "It eats at me a little bit too, and for some reason it really ate up Brinn. She hardly knew the commander, but when she found out she cried for an hour. I'd thought I'd talked her out of naming the baby after Shepard, especially since we found out it was going to be a boy, but now it's all set. The kid's going to be Joshua. That's Dr. Cole's final word on the subject."

Miranda laughed, then wiped away a tear. "It's perfect, really Jacob, that's great. I'm happy for you."

Susan felt a bit like an outsider whenever the subject of Shepard came up. She'd always respected, even admired the Commander, but she'd never understood the utter reverence. Everyone in the N7 program was expected to excel, best of the best. Yet, whenever she heard the Commander's old crew talk about her, or saw the look that passed their faces when they remembered something she said or did, it shed new light on the Alliance hero.

Susan also recalled an experience she had on the Citadel shortly before she'd shipped out to the war for the last time. She was standing up on the Silversun Strip, talking to some idiot requisition officer who was trying to push a shotgun on her, when she was sure she caught a glimpse of Commander Shepard. She'd meant to say a word or two, but before she could break away, the requisition officer had managed to infuriate her with his stupidity. She tried to set him straight, but it was pointless. By the time she overheated and walked away, she spotted the Commander standing nearby, laughing. Was Shepard eavesdropping on her conversation? Susan had been too nervous to approach her. Now she regretted it.

"Thanks Miranda," said Jacob. "But what else is bothering you? I want all of it, or my threat still stands."

Miranda glared at Taylor. "You blackmailing…"

"Spit it the hell out and quit stalling, Lawson," said Zaeed.

Miranda stared at the shuttle wall, bit her lip, and then came out with it. "It's Jack," said Miranda. "I had a run in with her about a day after the Crucible fired."

"Jesus, Miranda," said Jacob. "How in the hell did you manage to track her down and pick a fight with her in the middle of all that?"

"It's not what…" Miranda was exasperated. "Oh, never mind."

Zaeed snarled. "All the personal shit, suicide missions we've been through together, no secrets here, just give it up, woman. Better have your mind straight if we run into a bunch of mad Batarians hiding in some hole."

"Give it up, _woman_?" said Miranda. "Where are you, Zaeed, the 21st century?"

Susan tried to suppress laughter. Judging by the wear on the old mercenary, Miranda's comment might not be such a stretch.

"Oh fuck your pride, just get to the point," said Zaeed.

"Something happened between us," said Miranda. "I'm not sure how I feel about it. God, I wish Shepard had never brought it up."

"All that sexual tension finally boiled over, that about it?" asked Zaeed.

Miranda shrugged.

"I don't even think I need to be hearing about this," said Jacob.

"Listen," said Zaeed. "You came to the right man. Nobody understands a hot n cold dangerous bitch like I do. I've been down that road myself, an Asari named Tristana."

"I've read the file," said Miranda.

"Good, then I won't have to pull all the bloody shrapnel out to show you. Just take my advice and leave it alone. It'll only end one of two ways with that goddamn merciless bitch; she'll either break your heart or she'll kill you, or maybe both," said Zaeed.

"I thought you liked Jack?" said Miranda. "Your _type of girl_ , you said."

"Christ, did the fucking Illusive Man have the whole goddamn ship bugged? Anyway, I do like her, to a point. In a fight there's nothing better at your side than a destructive little slammer like Jack, but keep it there, don't mix business with feelings," said Zaeed.

"You're probably right," said Miranda, though she seemed disappointed.

Susan, who was feeling completely left out, attempted to change the direction of the conversation. Unfortunately, Jacob got in before her.

"Listen, Miranda," said Jacob. "I know you don't want to hear this, but we were totally wrong about Cerberus. What was going on there was evil, and what they did to Jack was _worse_ than evil. As far as she's concerned, you're always going to represent Cerberus. It don't matter if you've changed, it's just the way it is. You towed the company line for too damn long. You and Jack hooking up makes about as much sense as mixing nitrous oxide and glycerin. That shit's unstable, and it's eventually going to blow. I'm telling you as an old friend, stay away; for her sake as well as yours."

Miranda leaned back in her seat and nodded at Jacob, but Susan could tell she wasn't buying it. Something had gotten into Miranda and she couldn't let it go. Now as an excellent time to change the subject.

"Any word of what is going on down on Earth?" she asked.

"Haven't heard much," said Jacob. "Alliance Command gets real quiet when you bring it up."

"It's a fuck-all mess is what it is," said Zaeed. "Fucking people can't stay away from the Reapers, want to go in and salvage parts, get rich, all of that shit. What happens is that they stumble on the technology, get indoctrinated or worse, turned into fucking husks."

"How can they get indoctrinated if the Reapers are dead?" asked Susan.

"Trust me, it happens," said Miranda. "Leviathan of Dis did it to the Batarians, and we… I mean, Cerberus, lost a whole team at Mnemosyne. The indoctrination works regardless, except now that the Reapers are dead it just drives people insane; turns them suicidal or homicidal."

"And everyone who gets turned into a husk just melts away, like the fucking plague," said Zaeed. "Can't imagine a worse death."

"Horrible," said Susan. "What are they doing?"

"Putting up guard posts well away from the Reaper corpses," said Miranda. "As of yesterday, Hackett sent down the order to shoot anyone or anything that gets near."

"Oh my God," said Jacob.

"Makes sense," said Zaeed. "You can't have batshit crazies running around preying on others—hurts morale."

"Billions are already dead," observed Susan. "How many more will die in the aftermath?"

"Hard to say," said Miranda. "But projections don't look good. Even with all the alien help, our resources are strained, and most of them are worried about home. They see what is going on down on Earth and they realize it's happening to their worlds as well. That's why the relays are such a hub of activity."

"On that end, it's rough out there," said Jacob. "Tempers are short and you have scientists and techs tripping over each other, squabbles over resources. Salarians jumped the gun, sent out an expeditionary force of their fastest ships to the Exodus Relay without really consulting with the Alliance. Hackett is worried they won't even make it out that far and we'll lose them all for nothing."

"I wouldn't worry too much, the Salarians are a resourceful bunch," said Miranda.

"I can't imagine being stuck planet side. All the children, man, it must be hell on them," said Jacob. "And we can't afford to lose them, that's our future right there. We need to start having children, lots of them."

"Seems like you're on the job there, Taylor," said Zaeed.

Jacob laughed. "Yea, I'm ahead of the game. Brinn and I were talking about how the Alliance is going to have to give incentives to people for having children. But that's all good; people meeting people, love in the air and all that. Love will lift spirits faster than anything."

"It'll lift something," said Zaeed.

Miranda glanced Susan's way and considered her thoughtfully, as if she was suddenly mindful of how they'd left her out. "What about you Lt. Rizzi? Now that we've aired all our personal laundry, what's your story? Any great loves in your past, ghosts, or maybe bad ideas you're considering at the moment?"

Susan shrugged. "Just one past relationship and I'm not sure he's even alive. He was on Earth when the Reapers hit, and he was, um, older than me," said Susan. "Was in a hurry to have children. I have too much ahead of me, too much to do. I'm not really ready, in fact I probably won't ever be ready. I don't think I want kids. I'm more about the life of adventure. My plan is to be career military."

"Sounds goddamn sensible to me," said Zaeed.

Miranda pursed her lips tightly and shifted uncomfortably in her seat, as if she'd pinched a nerve. Susan wondered if the nerve was physical or emotional. Zaeed was still staring in Susan's direction, which caused her to blush again, much to her frustration.

"We're about four hours out," said Jacob. "We don't know how long this op will last, so this might be a good time to kick the seat back and grab a few winks."

Miranda adjusted her seat and draped a cloth over her eyes. "Sounds perfect."

"Fair warning," said Zaeed. "I snore like a fucking buzz saw."

Susan laughed. "Wait until you hear me."

Miranda groaned.

* * *

Up Next: **Hedged In -** _Lt. Rizzi proves herself in battle._


	10. Hedged In

_This is the conclusion of the first act of Reaper Dreams and is heavy on action. There are two more acts ahead. We also lose a major character in this chapter, unfortunately, this is just the first domino to fall. I'd like to thank Super Shark for his knowledge of the Mass Effect novels and codex tech, and pointing out that L4 and later generation amps have VI's on them. I rewrote this chapter to reflect that. I'm not a MP person these days due to not wanting my marriage to end, ha ha ha! - So I had to seek a bit of "help" to grasp the N7Fury - I'd be remiss if I did not give due credit to N7SPECOPS on Youtube - his video, Annihilating Furiously was the backbone for the action sequences in this chapter.  
_

* * *

 _"Man cries, his tears dry up and run out. So he becomes a devil, reduced to a monster."  
_

Kohta Hirano

May 25th, 2187

 **Susan Rizzi**

* * *

Susan locked her gauntlets into place and checked the operational status of her scanner. It hummed to life, illuminating the rear panel of the shuttle with a strobe flash before it powered down again.

Zaeed flinched and grabbed at his pistol. "Goddamn, what was that?"

"Sorry," said Susan. "Just checking the functionality of my tactical scanner."

"Menacing sound, reminded me of a fucking Geth," said Zaeed.

"Well, it is based on Geth technology," said Susan.

Miranda tilted her head in Susan's direction as she finished locking a piece of light armor into place. "I'd like to take a look at that after the op," she said. "It's something that would be useful in my line of work."

Susan gave a brief nod to Miranda while she adjusted the newly integrated mark five power amplifier mod on her armor. She'd picked one up just last week and couldn't wait to see what kind of boost she'd get from it.

"What's with the new body armor, Miranda?" asked Zaeed.

Miranda swept a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Getting a little older Zaeed, a little slower, so I thought I'd go for more protection. Not to mention all the fancy new mods these days require plug-ins."

The old mercenary cocked his rifle in defiance. "All I need is the same old armor I've always used, Jessie here, some grenades, and I'm good to go."

Susan could hear Jacob guffawing from the front of the shuttle. "You still packing that old rifle around?" asked Jacob. "Man, why don't you spring for a Valkyrie, now there's a damn good assault rifle."

"Nah," said Zaeed. "I like the weight on mine. Continuous fire, low kickback, and I can always find a sweet spot. With the ammo I use, I can tear down some poor bastard's kinetic barriers before he even knows he's in the line of fire. Not to mention, I like a light rifle so I can always keep my Viper handy for extreme distance."

"Ok," said Jacob. "Each to his own."

Zaeed stared Susan up and down until his eyes settled on her Talon pistol. "What about you, Mouse? That hand cannon packs a punch at short range, but it's no good for anything else. I know your type likes to carry light, but you should hip pocket a long range backup, something light like a Locust with a stabilizer and a scope. That'll do ya' fine."

Miranda interceded on Susan's behalf. "Zaeed, Lt. Rizzi doesn't fight at a distance."

Zaeed scowled. "Bloody hell, don't tell me she's one of those goddamn chargers, is she? Last thing I need is someone knocking Batarians around like bowling pins. Some of us like to line up a shot, you know? And Batarians have tough hides—knock 'em down and they'll be right up biting us in the ass. We can't afford to get sloppy when we have no idea of the layout."

Susan shook her head. "No, I never charge, sometimes I do something similar, but only to escape; though I rarely do that because I need to keep my field up at all times."

"So you mean to tell me that all you do is fire your bloody pistol and run around keeping a barrier up?" asked Zaeed.

"Zaeed," interrupted Miranda. "Susan's barrier has a warp effect. When she extends it, anything that comes in contact with her barrier is destabilized on a molecular level; other barriers, armor, flesh—will become unstable, and then any common biotic field…"

Zaeed whistled. "Will blow the hell out of them; that's not playing fair."

Susan smiled. "I call it my annihilation field. I bleed them with my field, and then I'll blast them with a full biotic kick that'll tear their already destabilized molecules apart. From a distance I can tap them with a dark energy channel as well, which often jumps to other living targets if they get too close, though I prefer to run in and use my field with close range biotic throws to create maximum carnage. The Talon is just a bonus, something I use to conserve my energy and keep my implants cool."

"That sounds bloody fucking dangerous to me," said Zaeed.

"I run really fast," said Susan. "And I'll have you and Miranda to watch my back. Her slams will also detonate the targets I hit with my field. What I need you to do is strip kinetic barriers for me and pick off stragglers—especially engineers. If someone overloads my barrier and stuns me…"

"You're fucking dead. Yea, I get it," said Zaeed. "Still sounds like bloody suicide tactics, but don't worry—I'll watch your ass."

Susan smirked at the old mercenary. "I'm flattered, Zaeed, but try to focus on the Batarians."

This time it was Massani's face that turned red; for once he was speechless.

Miranda cleared her throat abruptly. "Ok, when we figure out what bunker they're in, if they actually are down there, then we'll decide what approach to take. Once we breach the entrance, they won't have a chance. Susan will have us in and out before you know it. I've read about some of her ops on Terra Nova, Ilium, and her work with Hammer. It's very impressive."

Zaeed grumbled. "Don't puff her up too much, Lawson. These aren't mindless husks fighting for machines that don't give a shit if they die or not. Any Batarian this loyal to the Hegemony will be an old school veteran—tough sons of a bitches, the lot of them. Get cocky in there, and they'll put us down for sure."

Susan lowered her voice and spoke tersely. "Cocky isn't in my vocabulary. I've lived in cold fear all my life, Zaeed. You'll have to catch me on a really good day to even get a whiff of optimism."

The old mercenary stiffened. His left eye, steel blue, fixed on her with a knowing stare. An unspoken message was exchanged between them. Finally, here was a man who at least had a snowball's chance in hell of understanding Susan Rizzi.

"Five minutes out," said Jacob. "You sure it's going to be in the Lallande system, I mean, Gleisse 411 or whatever the hell you want to call it?"

"Sure as shit," said Zaeed. "There's nothing else in that system suitable. It's been abandoned for a few years except for the occasional scavenger poking for old parts. But the second planet is rocky, light enough gravity to get a cruiser to the surface, and it has old supply and ammunition bunkers; one of them big enough to be the perfect spot to hide a ship and get it ready."

Miranda was in agreement. "I think Zaeed's hunch is spot on, even if the Alliance is skeptical. It makes sense they would bunker down to plan their strategy. Also, they'd need access to supplies, explosives—there's enough on L2 to do the job."

"I can't believe the council wouldn't stop work on the relay over this," said Jacob. "Man, after everything that happened, you'd think they'd finally start listening when someone warned them?"

"Is it always this bad?" asked Susan.

Miranda nodded. "One thing you can always count on as a soldier, Lt. Rizzi, is the ineptitude of politicians."

"You'll eventually learn to be grateful," said Zaeed.

"Um, why?" wondered Susan.

"If politicians ever got smart, the galaxy wouldn't need soldiers. We'd all be out of goddamn work," said Zaeed.

The entire shuttle crew laughed together.

Miranda, Susan, and Zaeed went through some final equipment checks as they closed in on their destination. At five minutes out they sealed their suits and put on helmets. As soon as Susan locked her faceplate into place, Zaeed did a double take at her.

His voice crackled over the amplifier. "That's goddamn scary as hell."

"Supposed to make me look furious," said Susan.

She was running possible scenarios through her head when they finally dropped out of FTL.

"Engaging stealth systems," said Jacob. "We're ghosts now. Settle in, it's going to be a little while before we close in on L2."

By the time they reached L2, Jacob had picked up enough emissions to convince Miranda that the Batarians were down there. Susan was fairly confident herself. Jacob nosed them down into the scarce atmosphere of L2, a barren rock only slightly larger than Earth's moon. Its jagged mountains had yielded little resources in the early days of human FTL, but a system of bunkers had been constructed on the planet during the First Contact War. Susan was not entirely sure of the tactical purpose, but she gathered it might have served as a base of operations for a guerrilla warfare campaign if Earth had ever fallen to an alien invasion.

In later years, three orbital stations were built around L2. Their purpose was classified. During the early stages of the Reaper conflict, the enemy had dispatched a destroyer to the system to remove the stations, which were now scattered debris on the surface of the planet. The bunkers however, likely remained untouched as they were not populated.

Jacob punched up some info on his haptic controls and grinned. "And there they are, just like Zaeed said they'd be. I'll take us in low, hug the ground to stay out of sight, and drop you right on top of them. You'll be all over the bastards before they know what's hit them."

As the shuttle descended into a valley in the mountains Susan started playing with her omni-tool. Something was familiar to her about the scenario they were in.

"Miranda, did you ever do any raids on Batarian terrorist operations with Shepard?" she asked.

Miranda nodded. "A Thanix missile complex, and then a few Blue Suns outposts, why?"

Susan shook her head. "Just something familiar about this from the old Normandy mission reports."

"One minute," said Jacob. "Reducing speed, get ready to bail."

Miranda frowned. "None of us served on the SR1, and the only Batarian mission I recall was the Asteroid X57 incident near Terra Nova."

Zaeed moved to the exit door, Miranda followed.

"Balak," said Susan. "That's it, Balak. God, it's the same Batarian down there."

"Ok, here we go," said Jacob "In ten…"

Susan remembered a crucial piece of information that she'd read in the reports. Batarians were many things, but the one trait that stood out was their consistency in stubbornness. They held on to traditions, politics, and tactics. She disseminated the last piece of information with alarm.

She screamed at Jacob. "Taylor, PULL UP! PUL…"

The explosion that rocked the shuttle dismantled the dampening field and threw Susan against the aft wall. Fortunately, she was untouched by debris as fragments flew in every direction. Metal screeched, then shredded, and two subsequent explosions utterly wrecked the craft, sending it cartwheeling across the terrain. Somehow, what remained of the kinetic barrier kept the frame intact. By the time the ruined shuttle came to a stop, Susan had her barrier up and her weapon out. She was unharmed—pure luck. The rest of the team wasn't as fortunate.

Of Zaeed, there was no sign. Apparently, he had been thrown clear of the shuttle. Miranda was close. Her arm had been badly damaged, and that particular portion of her armor was compromised. She was unconscious but a quick scan of her vitals indicated she was still alive. Susan had to work quickly, first by using her omni-tool to inject medi-gel into the damaged arm, and then using a chemical sealant to plug the breaches in her armor. If Miranda was lucky she'd live, but judging by the damage it would take a miracle to save her left arm.

Susan made her way to the front of the shuttle in search of Jacob. When she finally found him, she groaned. Taylor was beyond help, impaled by debris, and outgassing blood from his abdomen. The thin atmosphere of the planet was pulling on his exposed vitals, bloating and rupturing his organs. Jacob was barely conscious, but his eyes told the whole story. This was no fucking way to die. Susan aimed her Talon at his faceplate. Jacob gave her the slightest nod of thanks and closed his eyes. She ended it quickly, then crossed herself. She didn't really believe anymore, not after the Reapers, but she felt it honored her parents to keep their traditions.

She followed her sacrament with blasphemy. "Goddammit!" Susan cursed aloud.

Cracking her com, she shouted for her missing squad member. "Zaeed, Zaeed, you out there? Talk to me, Massani!"

The com crackled, much to Susan's relief. "Behind what's left of the shuttle, checking for atmospheric leaks in my goddamn armor. I've got a bum leg and a nasty crack on the head, but that's not the real problem."

"What's the real problem?" asked Susan.

"I can't move without going ka-fucking boom! Were in the middle of a bunch of bloody proximity mines, and here come the goddamn Batarians! It's not looking good, Lt. Rizzi," he said.

The sound of weapon discharge pelting the remains of the shuttle let her know that the Batarians already had them in their sights. Susan went into action. Extending her arm, she slammed the shuttle door with considerable biotic force, tearing it ajar. The lack of atmosphere on L2 meant that she didn't have to contend with flames, a small mercy. Grabbing hold of the railing she flipped herself onto the top of the shuttle. She was careful to avoid jagged metal that might tear into her light armor.

Keeping low, she took stock of her situation. Three Batarians were near the entrance to the bunker. One of them was standing near a console by the door, the other was shooting at them haphazardly with an assault rifle, and the third was detaching a Kishock Harpoon from the mag lock on his armor. She placed herself behind a shredded panel for modest coverage.

"Zaeed, I think I know how to disable the mines, but I gotta go fast," she said.

Zaeed's chuckle crackled over the com link. "I don't see how, there's at least a hundred meters of mines between the bunker and what's left of the shuttle. We're sitting ducks out here. It's fucking target practice time and they've got four eyes. Good thing the bastard shooting at us has a crappy Quarian assault rifle and doesn't know how to handle it."

His gallows humor was infectious. Death breathing down their necks, and the old mercenary was cool as a cucumber—cracking jokes. It was impressive, a man who could actually back up his bravado.

Susan rolled aside as a shot from the Batarian's Kishock tore through the panel and missed her by less than a few centimeters. Popping up from her cover, she clipped him with a dark energy channel and watched him flail around in fear. He was dead, and he realized it. His companions scattered away from him, recognizing the nature of the biotic attack. Now was the time.

"Hey Zaeed, what do you drink?" she asked.

"Grappa," said Zaeed. "Puts a fire in the belly."

"So, you hang tight, get to Miranda after I shut down the mines; I'll clear the mission. You're buying shots afterwards. If you get me drunk enough, you might get lucky," said Susan.

Zaeed wheezed out a rasping chortle. The com crackled again. "Bullshit! But at least I'll die with a smile on my lips, thanks Rizzi."

"See you on the other side, Massani," she said.

Susan was going to get herself killed, she was almost certain of it, but at least death would stop her from making yet another mistake with a man who wasn't right for her.

' _Stupid girl, why can't you resist these old feral stallions?_ ' she wondered.

Susan cleared her head. She'd never tried anything like this in battle, but it was now or never. Her control over Mass Effect fields allowed her to propel herself forward at incredible velocity. To an observer it appeared that she was capable of teleportation, but she could not actually pass her molecules through thick obstacles. It was an effect not unlike the propulsion system of the Normandy class frigates. There was a limited distance she could cover in one jump. In this case, she would have to string several jumps together. Calculating the delay on the proximity mines, Susan realized she needed four jumps in a half of a second—the most she had ever achieved was three.

Susan was off the shuttle and on the ground just as the bunker lift opened and four more Batarians came spilling out. It was now or never. Her internal Virtual Intelligence, which was integrated into her biotic implants, was alerted to her intent. As she focused on the distance, she gave the VI something to work with, imagining 16th notes on a sheet of paper in 4/4 time, 120 beats per second. The VI adjusted. A systems readout appeared in her field of vision, giving her an excessive heat warning. She ordered an override and the implant VI complied.

Susan took off at a dead sprint and then—flashed. The VI timed each jump for the first four notes, regulating the power it would use. A series of pops fired as her biotic amp surged to the impulses given by the VI. Time distorted and her surroundings slowed to a standstill. The Batarians appeared to be frozen in place. She couldn't hear the mines detonating behind her because she was moving at least a dozen times faster than the speed of sound.

Susan materialized into the middle of the group while they were still staring at her ghost, which had just vanished back at the shuttle. The shockwave from multiple exploding mines followed. As her own mass returned to normal, she staggered from the momentum, no matter that it was reduced by several magnitudes. This was not a trick she could ever try in a higher gravity environment. Had she misjudged the distance ever so slightly and overshot by a mere three meters, she would have slammed into the bunker and imitated a bug splattering on a windshield.

The heat discharge from her biotic implants began to surge through her, but she had no other option. Susan overrode her VI again and engaged her Annihilation Field immediately after shooting the closest warrior in the chest with her Talon. His armor was well worn and he was unshielded. The piercing modification on her pistol did its work as the round tore through his suit and buried itself in his chest.

The rest of the stunned Batarians were so transfixed by the trail of explosive destruction she'd left in her wake, that she managed a large area biotic kick before they could react. Two soldiers evaporated as their already unstable molecules were torn asunder by the throw field.

Susan's nerves were on fire—her biotic implants near overload. The VI initiated a failsafe routine which resulted in a hard shutdown of her implants. There was no arguing this time. Her biotics were offline. It would take at least three minutes of cool-down before the VI would allow her to use her biotics again. The rest of the engagement would rely on her training as a combat solider. Fortunately, she'd had the best training in the Alliance.

Taking off at a dead sprint, she relied entirely on her armor's kinetic barrier to absorb the fire she was taking. She leapt over a boulder sheltering one of the Batarian sentries, the one that had been haphazardly firing his Quarian assault rifle at the shuttle just moments ago. Before he could bring the unwieldy weapon to bear, she slammed her Talon into his faceplate and fired. The discharge shattered the helmet and pulped the flesh and bone beneath.

Taking the dead Batarian's place behind the boulder, she dropped her Talon and hefted his weapon into action. Unlike its previous owner, she was quite familiar with all the quirks of the Adas A-SR. She used it to cut down the last two soldiers as they wildly charged her position. Their bodies lay twitching on the ground, one at three meters, and the other at six from her boulder. All too easy.

Opening her com link, she kept a wary eye on the entrance to the bunker. "Hey, Massani, I'm halfway home. I just need to disarm the mines from the console. Can you climb up on the shuttle and cover me without setting anything off?"

Zaeed was rattled. "What in the hell was that, Rizzi? I thought you jumped into the minefield to go out in some goddamn blaze of glory."

Susan retrieved her Talon and chortled. "It was rather glorious, but I lived through it. Now, get the hell up on that shuttle and cover me!"

"Aye, aye, Ma'am," said Massani.

By the time Susan reached the console, Zaeed was on the shuttle roof with his Viper. He gave her a signal and settled into position. Passing her omni-tool over the console, she viewed a series of codes flashing on her retinal feed. Susan responded by keying in a logarithm, then followed with a new hacking routine she'd recently acquired from command. It was specifically designed for Batarian codes and worked like a charm. The mine-field was disabled.

Susan waved her Talon in Zaeed's general direction. "All clear, Massani. Take care of Lawson, I'm going in."

Zaeed's voice broke over the com. He was clearly in worse shape than he let on because he didn't argue with the plan. There wasn't even a feigned attempt to convince her to take him inside. "Roger that," he said.

Susan's biotics came back online, though the VI issued a health warning. Clenching her fist she thumbed the injector controls on her suit, initiating a Glucagon C3 shot into her bloodstream. She also retrieved a small canister from her survival pack and jammed it into the entry port on her faceplate. A stream of thick, cold syrup ejected into her mouth. She gulped it down greedily. The mixture of glucose, protein, adrenaline, and narcotics was exactly what she needed to get through the rest of the mission. Her VI notated both actions and informed her she had exceeded her sixty day limit by over thirty percent, which meant she would be removed from active duty and forced to report to an Alliance doctor for a full physical and mental evaluation.

Overriding the lift controls, Susan opened the doors and climbed in. First thing was first. She re-routed the micro-circuitry as best she could with her omni-tool, opened a hatch on the ceiling of the lift, and climbed up. As the lift began to descend, she engaged her high-powered scanner. Her timing needed to be impeccable.

The readout on her scanner indicated a hollowed out bunker. Hardly any of the infrastructure remained. Somehow the Batarians had landed their cruiser, blasted a hole in the side of the mountain, cleared out the bunker, and stashed their craft inside for retrofitting. It was an impressive engineering feat, and all accomplished within the past week. For the first time in her life, she found herself wishing that the Reapers had blasted a human facility from orbit. The Batarians would have had no chance to enact their strategy without the equipment stored here.

As the lift reached the bottom, she pulled a cluster grenade from her belt and held her hand over the entrance hatch. This would be tricky. She knew the Batarians would be waiting with heavy ordinance. The second the lift doors opened, they would aim and fire a rocket, hoping to take her out. The blast would likely get to her even if she closed the hatch, so leaving it open was her only option.

As soon as the door chimed and began to slide open, she dropped the grenade. She had the timing down in her head. Just before the cluster grenade hit the floor, about the same time the doors were half-ajar, she gave the grenade a biotic pop, wedging it like she would drive a golf ball out of a bunker.

Peter had loved the game of golf. Susan used to resent him dragging her out to the course on weekends and teaching her the finer points of the game. Now it was likely saving her life, perhaps even the billions of lives in the Sol system. The cluster grenade rocketed out of the elevator and separated into three smaller grenades, all of them exploding inside the bunker. The screams indicated that it had worked.

Dropping into the lift, she flashed again, jumping out into wake of the grenade blast radius. There were three dead bodies visible, and two badly wounded. Susan brought up her field, which immediately killed the two wounded Batarians. Shots were fired but missed her amidst the smoke and debris.

She moved as she was trained, in a fury of directed action. Detonating another hapless soldier caught in her field, she tumbled behind a wall of alloy cylinders for cover. Rounds thudded into the thick canisters, fortunately filled with inert nitrogen gas. She caught a glimpse of her nearest attacker and snagged him with a dark energy channel. He screamed in horror as the molecular bonds in his body slowly dissolved. She could picture the blood pouring out of his nostrils, ears, his eyes—it was excruciatingly painful and terrifying. She had experienced it once herself, barely surviving.

A readout from her VI popped into her field of vision, indicating that her implants were only at a twenty percent heat load. It was child's play now. The sole remaining Batarian in proximity was no match for Susan. Using her scanner to great advantage, she closed on him while he tried to target her in vain. A biotic field enclosed her fist as she drove it through his chest, ripping his lungs and heart asunder. Today was her lucky day—his unlucky day. Surveying the carnage she took stock of the situation.

According to the mission reports, the small Batarian cruiser was likely to have a crew of fifty. However, many had been killed in the takeover of the ship. Providing that thirty crewmen had reached this bunker, she counted fifteen she had killed, at least half of them. It came to her attention that she was standing near the engines of the ship. If they meant to make an escape, she'd be incinerated immediately. However, something equally interesting caught her eye.

The Batarians had been making modifications to the ship. Many internal components were unarmored and unprotected. Susan gasped at what she saw, realizing how perilous her situation truly was. It was fortunate that her grenades had not traveled close to the ship. She reached for her belt, a new plan coalescing in an instant. Muttering another useless prayer under her breath, she hoisted herself into the ship components and went to work. Just as she finished she heard a sound.

Susan flashed to the canisters again, and then to the scaffolding above. Several shots narrowly missed her. She could not see her opponent, which indicated he was more cautious, perhaps more skilled than the Batarians she had dispatched. She kept moving, finding her way along the scaffolding while the enemy's rounds came nearer and nearer; once even depleting her kinetic barrier. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Though the bulk of her mission was accomplished, it would be nice to get out of here alive.

"Human!" screamed her assailant. "Show yourself!"

She flashed again. No way was she going to present herself as a target, as the Batarian had foolishly done. She used his momentary lapse to engage her scanner and sweep the area. He had moved away from the distortion that previously blocked her readings. He was vulnerable but she chose not to strike, not yet. She recognized her target. It was Balak, the highest ranking member of the Hegemony still alive. Susan knew his record well. This wasn't a game of survival anymore, it was about justice, or perhaps vengeance.

"Human!" he shouted again. "You can't hide forever!"

She presented herself as a target, briefly, but Balak didn't fire. Why was he delaying? Susan checked her scanner once more before she realized what his intent was. Her time was running out. She had to move swiftly. She flashed.

Balak was ready for her, his barrier more than ample enough to shield himself from her field. Susan dodged a vicious slash from the omni-blade on his Revenant. Then struck him with all the force she could muster from her amp. It was enough to stagger him. Pressing the advantage she discharged her weapon, which weakened his barrier and allowed her annihilation field to begin its work. Balak panicked. Susan circled around and took his legs out from under him. She ended the combat, not with a death blow, but a crippling strike.

Balak was limp, completely at her mercy. She removed his helmet. He spit blood on her and laughed. An indicator light beeped in warning. Her time was running out, still she wanted to savor this.

"Balak," she said. "I got you."

The Batarian shook his head. "No human, I sacrificed myself so that you could not stop my plans."

"Uh huh," she said.

"By the time you finish with me, the airlocks will be sealed, and the ship's main power will be online. It will glide safely out of this bunker and begin its final mission," said Balak. "My people will be revenged."

Susan smiled. "No, as soon as it leaves this bunker and begins its ascent, the Alliance and Turian fleets will be waiting to blow it out of orbit."

Balak spat again. "You lie!"

"You think? Then why am I not running after your ship and furiously pounding on the airlock?" asked Susan.

Balak tried to lift himself up, but Susan had the advantage. A thin blade emerged from her omni-tool, she lowered it to one of his four eyes.

"I hear you are a traditionalist, Balak," she said. "A religious man, perhaps? It is said that a Batarian must see his way into heaven, is that not correct?"

She sensed fear in her captive, as she drove her blade into one of his eyes. He screamed in pain.

"Human scum!" he shouted.

Susan was overcome by rage. "That was for Jacob Taylor," she said. "And this is for innocents on Mindoir!"

She put out another of the Batarian leader's eyes. His screams and curses intensified, and then receded into guttural sobs. She aimed at the third eye.

"This is for the science team you murdered on X57," she whispered.

After she put out his third eye, Balak was barely conscious. She raised her blade one final time, pointing it at his only remaining eye, which blinked in horror.

He wept. "You are so cruel, human."

She snarled. "And you're an animal. By the way, this one is for Shepard, I hope you Batarians really do have a hell, and you rot there!"

Susan plunged the blade through his eye and into his brain. Then, rising to her feet, she began to run. She flashed to the lift as the Mass Effect field of the cruiser engaged. She had taken too long, the engines would fire in mere seconds.

Looking up the hatch in the lift, Susan gambled one final time. Using the rails to guide her, she recalled the previous program and set the VI for six jumps. She also initiated a three second delay on any emergency shutdown actions.

Susan flashed up the shaft—once, twice, thrice, a fourth, a fifth, and finally a sixth time. Exhausted, she dangled on the side of the shaft, swung herself around, and blasted the doors open with every last scrap of biotic force she could summon. She nearly fried her nervous system in the process. Heat vented from the lift shaft only moments after she cleared it. Her VI flashed several warnings before imitating another hard shutdown.

Susan cackled at herself incoherently. "Almost double cooked!"

Her nervous system, severely overloaded, rendered her legs noodles. Flopping onto the ground like a fish, Susan lost control of her bladder just before fainting. The VI was programmed to revive her and did so promptly, flooding her nostrils with oxygen and chemical compound that created a sense of alertness.

As soon as she was awake, another readout appeared, indicating that she faced possible neurological damage and she was to report to yet another Alliance doctor for evaluation. When her CO downloaded her implant data he was going to pitch a fit. Susan could almost hear the string of expletives Briggs would unleash on her, followed of course, by his usual recommendation to award her a service medal.

Susan crawled to her feet and began a slow, staggering walk to the shuttle. She was so wiped out that she didn't even bother to check if the minefield was still disabled. If she triggered a mine at this point, well, she just didn't care. It was meant to be.

By the time she reached Zaeed, he was dragging Miranda out of the shuttle wreckage. Lawson was in bad shape. It was a lucky thing that Susan had convinced the former operative to suit up in actual armor. It was also an oversight that she hadn't insisted on the same for Taylor.

Zaeed shook his head slowly. "A goddamn shame about Taylor, he was a good soldier and a friend. He was still so fucking young. I'd trade places with him in a heartbeat."

Susan reached out and placed her hand on Massani's shoulder, sympathizing with him.

"Is Lawson going to make it?" she asked.

Zaeed nodded. "She's holding on, stable. I don't know about the arm though. We've got spare Oxygen, but only a few days' worth. The radio is no good," he said. "We need to send some sort of a signal."

"I've taken care of that," said Susan.

Massani pointed to the cruiser ascending in the sky. It was headed into low orbit. Susan had nearly forgotten about it, as the sound of its fusion torches did not carry far in the thin atmosphere of L2.

He muttered. "Batarian bastards got away, shit."

Susan shook her head. "They modified the ship, loaded it with all kinds of heavy ordinance. It's a flying bomb."

"Well, that's goddamn bad news," said Zaeed. "They're already leaving orbit. Why are you so calm about this?

Susan shrugged. "They left the rear armor plates off the engine compartment. In their mad dash to get the cruiser operational and out of the bunker, they never bothered to replace them. The anti-proton fuel tank for the main thrusters was hanging out there bare-assed, so I stuck a limpet mine on it. It's on a timer, but I can also detonate from here."

She tapped her omni-tool. Seconds later a mini-sun flashed in the heavens. It was so bright, Zaeed had to shield his eyes.

"Two birds with one stone. The Batarians are gone, and the anti-matter explosion should serve as a sufficient signal for the Alliance to come investigate. I hope they hurry," said Susan.

"My God, I think I'm in love," said Massani.

Lt. Susan Rizzi smiled, then collapsed into the dust of L2. She was dead tired.

* * *

 _ **Up Next:** Ashley loses her ship and her temper._


	11. Deliberations In Hope

**PART TWO**

* * *

 _My primary beta reader is on vacation for two weeks so you are left with the plot holes and imperfections she normally ferrets out! Please speak up if you spot an inconsistency. I kept this chapter brief, but I didn't want to skip this scene. It was necessary for reasons that should be soon evident. Quite a bit of this story is dealing with the mess that was left behind in the wake of the final act of ME3. Not least of which was the fact that all those millions of people on the Citadel were turned into Reaper mulch when it was taken. Poor Bailey, Kolyat Krios, et and then I realized, that Ashley Williams entire family was being housed on the Citadel by the Alliance..._

* * *

" _One of the penalties for refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors."_ _  
_ **Plato**

June 17th, 2187

 **Gianna Parasini**

* * *

Gianna's feet were killing her. Wishing that she could go back in time and slap herself silly for accepting Hackett's offer, or better yet, threaten herself at gunpoint before the fact. She ran through a ragged internal list of to do's. What was left?

Oh, yes, Miranda Lawson, that would be painless, but after that there was a nasty bit of business with Commander Ashley Williams. Gianna wished like hell the Council hadn't asked her to be present. As the Secretary General, she understood their position, even the wisdom of it, but they could hardly expect Williams to take it well. Who could blame her for petitioning the Council for an audience on the matter?

It rankled Gianna that the Batarian standing next to her, a former terrorist, was receiving better treatment than Williams, an alliance hero. Parasini had always hated politicians, now she was one of them. Worse, it was her own machinations that allowed Charn to climb into his current position. Still, she couldn't beat herself up too much; if she hadn't reached out to the Batarian when she did, she'd be a cloud of ash drifting on the solar wind with everyone else.

An internal smile materialized out of a morbid thought. Would it have been so bad, extinction? It wasn't the worst fate she could think of, at least she wouldn't be standing here at the moment with aching feet, listening to the Council drone on. At least in death, there would be no more politicians, no more wars, poverty, or suffering, and above all else, no more goddamn meetings. Maybe the Reapers had it right all along?

' _God, you're horrible, Parasini_ ,' she said to herself.

Gianna turned her attention back to the meeting, re-attuning her ears to hear the actual words instead of the usual garble-garble.

"Charn, on behalf of the Citadel Council, I would again like to extend our sincerest appreciation. Your information may have saved all of our lives," said Counselor Tevosa.

Charn bowed. "My gratitude Counselor, it was an honor to be of assistance."

Counselor Osaba, Earth's newest addition to the ruling body, spoke next. "From this day forward, let it be said that humanity extends its hand in friendship to the Batarian people. We pledge our commitment to help your fleets return to Karshan, and to restore your world. Whatever assistance you ask of us will be met with the utmost sincerity in intended fulfillment."

Gianna was scratching her head, figuratively, over Dominic's last phrase. She hoped she'd never learn to talk that way. It was annoying as hell.

Charn turned to her and extended his hand. "And thank you, Madam Secretary, for trusting me."

"You're welcome Charn, she said. You should thank Commander Shepard as well, though she isn't with us anymore. I was familiar with you because of her reports. She seemed to think that you were a reasonable man. That's why I trusted you."

Charn dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Of course," he said. "I suspect we will all be thanking the Commander, each and every day for the rest of our lives; our children as well."

A round of applause erupted from the bystanders.

Sparatus, the Turian Counselor, appreciated the sentiment aloud. "Well said, Charn."

As Charn made his way off the podium, Gianna breathed a sigh of relief. Another down, two more to go. The Council recorder made a note in her digital log before clearing her throat and calling the next order of business.

The recorder's voice blared over the Ascension's intercom. "Miranda Lawson, please approach the seat."

After a slight delay, Miranda Lawson made her way up to the podium and stood next to Gianna. The former Cerberus operative was wearing a plain dress, something befitting a receptionist rather than a soldier. Her left arm, which was set in a simple sling, bore an array of surgical scars and ugly faded bruises. It didn't look quite right. Lawson might have done better for herself by agreeing to an amputation and going with a synthetic limb.

Gianna recalled a blurb in the post-mission report, something that Lawson had told the attending surgeon. " _No thanks Doctor, I'm already fake enough._ "

Counselor Tevosa initiated the hearing. "Miranda Lawson, we've brought you here to acknowledge your part in the events at Lallande Two. The Council appreciates your efforts on behalf of all the races. In addition, it has been brought to our attention that you also aided the Council in the past. This has informed our decision going forward."

Counsel Valern, the Salarian, spoke up. "Due to your past affiliation with Cerberus, an avowed enemy of the Council, and as it turns out, all of galactic civilization, certain constituencies have moved that you be tried as a criminal."

A murmur of disapproval stirred in the crowd. The Turian Counselor raised his hand and called for silence.

Sparatus then spoke on Miranda's behalf. "However, these charges will be summarily dismissed. Going forward, the Human Systems Alliance and the Council considers your record clean of any previous allegiances or infractions. Unfortunately, this does not erase your past, only your record. It is a pity, truly, that you were once associated with the Illusive Man. If you had not chosen that path, it is very likely we would have considered you to serve as a Council Spectre."

Counselor Osaba spoke next. "Ms. Lawson, it is difficult for me to deal with any former Cerberus Operative. I lost my own son to their treachery, but I agree with Sparatus, your actions, upon reflection, have been exemplary. It has come to my attention that the Alliance plans to utilize your skills. My suggestion is that you accord yourself well in their service and never again shall we hear of unseemly associations in regards to your personage."

"Thank you, Counselors," said Miranda. "I promise, that you won't be sorry for your generosity."

Lawson paused. "If I may speak on another matter?"

"Certainly," said Osaba.

"Lt. Rizzi performed beyond all expectations in the field. If you ever have room for a third Human Spectre…"

Tevosa nodded in acknowledgement. "My apologies, perhaps you are not aware. Earlier today, Lt. _Commander_ Susan Rizzi's actions were commended by the Council. She is now under the guidance of one of our recently appointed Spectres and is on the fast track for recruitment. We have need of such skills. I also believe that Alliance Admiralty plans to award her with the Star of Terra."

Miranda seemed quite pleased with the news. "Thank you again, Counselor," she said.

Gianna brushed Miranda's good arm in acknowledgement and dismissed her from the podium. Lawson slowed for a moment.

She spoke softly so that only Gianna could hear her words. "Williams is beside herself, you have your work cut out for you."

' _Oh God_ ,' thought Gianna. ' _I need this like a hole in the head._ '

It wasn't long before Commander Williams made her entrance, in fact, she came strolling in well before the Council recorder announced her. The fury on her face was blinding. Onlookers moved out of her wake as if a horde of Reapers had followed her into the room. Gianna prepared for the worst.

The Human Counselor sought to mitigate the damage by speaking first. "Commander Williams, how may we be of service?"

"You can explain to me WHY you took my ship away!" shouted Williams.

Counselor Osaba, obviously vexed, spoke clearly. "I believe you receive your orders from the Alliance, in regards to the ship assignments. Perhaps the Secretary may be of assistance?"

Aside from her annoyance with Dominic for passing the buck, Gianna was also irritated by the fact that she had no good answer to give to Williams.

Gianna had rehearsed her next words a dozen times. "Commander, as you know, all specific Normandy assignments are classified. We are not allowed to discuss the particulars, other to say that she is currently at a designated area, and will be moving to another area to fulfill the orders of Alliance command."

Ashley glared at Gianna. "I know you, don't I? You're that damn corporate security officer from Noveria, the one that was always preying on Shepard's good graces and conning her into doing your dirty work. Seems about right that someone like you would slink their way into political office."

"You're out of line, Commander Williams," said Counselor Osaba.

Gianna held her anger in check but spoke frankly. "I didn't slink my way into this office Williams, I stepped up and did my duty because I was asked to, because everyone else capable of doing it was murdered by the Reapers."

Commander Williams reacted as if she had received blunt force trauma. She was clearly in a poor emotional state. However, the fire in her eyes did not dissipate. For a brief moment, Gianna thought that the second Human Spectre was going to spit on the Secretary General of the Alliance. It would have been a very bad display in front of the Council races, another sign that Humans could not control themselves any better than the Krogan.

Instead Williams drew herself up and spewed only words. "If you're doing your duty, then why the hell are you taking away my ship? Were you on the Normandy all these months, fighting, bleeding, _and dying_ for the Alliance and the rest of the galaxy?"

Sparatus, who was losing his patience, rebuked Williams. "Commander, it is not up to you to question your orders. A soldier obeys orders, a Spectre obeys orders. The Normandy is no longer under your command. It is as simple as that. You are expected to do your duty, nothing else."

"You son-of-a-bitch!" shouted Williams. "Don't talk to me about orders. If Shepard had listened to your orders, we'd all be dead right now—killed by the machines you claimed didn't exist, that were all a figment of her imagination!"

"Commander Williams!" said Valern. "You are out of line. You should well know how difficult it is to discern the future, to know what the right course of action is. If I recall, did you not question Shepard yourself? Did you not stand in front of my colleagues here and aim a weapon at your former Commander? In light of your past actions, your misguided words ring hypocritical to me."

This was just getting worse. If it was in Gianna's power, she might have forcibly escorted Williams out the door, but she had not the slightest inclination to try it. The Commander was a Spectre, after all. One wrong move and Gianna might end up in the hospital, or dead. Her only recourse was to try to think of a way to defuse the situation.

Sparatus was angered by the Commander's disregard for her superiors, as any Turian would be. "You are a Council Spectre, Williams, I expect you to fall in line. Or are you not capable of that? It does not escape my notice that your Spectre status was achieved under the machinations of a traitor. Perhaps you are not suitable for this position?"

' _Oh, sure, Sparatus, real smart. We have a fire getting out of control, and you run up and throw gasoline on it,_ " thought Gianna.

Ashley glared at the Turian with a look of pure hatred. She was no doubt working up something truly awful to say, when Tevosa changed the whole atmosphere. The Asari Counselor held up her hand, a signal for everyone to be silent. She left her standing, and walked over to Williams.

"Ash," Tevosa said, using an informal address and a quite personal tone. "I take responsibility for this. I should have delivered my decision to you in person."

Commander Williams was surprised by the Asari, and slightly taken aback. She shook her head in confusion, her anger diminishing.

"Why?" asked Williams.

Tevosa spoke in a very soothing, concerned tone. She placed her hand on the Commander's shoulder. "It has nothing to do with your loyalty, or competency, and everything to do with my concern for you. I understand your personal losses. There are difficult times ahead. You are one of our most experienced operatives, but we need you rejuvenated and ready for service."

Williams was out of her element. Her temper began to subside, but she was still defiant. "How do you understand?"

Tevosa sighed. "Do you remember my assistant, the one who worked at the Citadel Embassy, who handled all the diplomatic business in my stead?"

Williams thought for a moment, then answered. "Yes, I used to see her around, she was always in Udina's office. She brought me coffee a few times when I was first appointed as Spectre. She knew just how I liked my coffee, strange, because she never asked. I remember her name, Janiah, her name was Janiah."

Tevosa nodded sadly. "That was Janiah's way, she served. She always made a point to know about the people around her. Janiah was my younger sister. We were quite close. She remained on the Citadel to facilitate Asari and Human Embassy business after the Council went our separate ways to conduct the final stages of the war."

Williams hung her head. "So she was on the Citadel, when…"

"When the Reapers took it, yes," said Tevosa. "Along with your sisters, your mother, and a great many others. We will feel these losses for the rest of our lives. I could not in good conscience, send you on a mission and expect you to survive. Do you understand?"

Williams was caught between anger and shame. "So what are you saying, you took my ship away for my own good?"

Counselor Tevosa sighed. "Ashley, I did not take anything away. We put you on temporary leave at the Council's discretion. Alliance Command assigned the Normandy at their discretion. When you are ready to resume your service to the Council, you will get your own ship again, perhaps even the Normandy.

This situation is only temporary, the rest is up to you, but you do not help your case by storming in here and ranting. I am going to overlook this incident and recommend to your superiors that no disciplinary action be taken, but I expect you to comply with orders, restore yourself, and return to duty. There are times ahead that will test the resolve of all peoples. We will have great need of our Spectres."

Williams saluted. "Yes Ma'am," she said tersely.

"Dismissed, Commander Williams," said Tevosa.

Ashley Williams made her way out of the Council Chambers, passing into the Destiny Ascension's middle deck area. Gianna had never witnessed such political and personal prowess in her life. She had gravely underestimated the Asari Counselor. Gianna took a mental note, realizing that she would have to be extra vigilant and cautious with Tevosa going forward. There would be no fooling her once the Alliance implemented their plans with the Turians and the Krogan. Somehow, she'd have to convince the Asari to get on board before the train left the station.

"That was impressive, Counselor," said Gianna. "I did not think anyone could talk her down."

"But is this the end of it?" asked Sparatus. "I do not understand how a soldier can be so insubordinate, or deluded enough to believe that the galaxy's most advanced warship should be her sole possession."

"It is not the ship," said Tevosa. "It is what the Normandy represents to her. Williams did not just lose her family, she lost her Commanding Officer, the one person who kept her, kept us all sustained with hope for so long. The Normandy is all that she has left of Shepard and it was just taken away from her. I can empathize with her desperation, because I feel the same way. The galaxy still needs hope more than ever, but now the burden falls on us to provide it. Are we up to the task?"

Sparatus dropped his head. "I am ashamed, Counselor, I see it now. I regret my words in retrospect."

"There are difficult times ahead, to be certain," said Valern. "I often have doubts myself. I wonder, shall I ever see Sur'Kesh again?"

The Asari Counselor bowed her head and closed her eyes. "Goddess, give us the strength."

* * *

 _Up next:_ **We Are Legion.** _A conversation between two dead characters, but how, why, and where does it take place?_


	12. We Are Legion

_Here we go with a big reveal of the story. I know there will be plenty of questions, and eventually there will be answers in the chapters ahead. Don't assume you know where this is going yet.  
_

* * *

" _When I die, I'm leaving my body to Science Fiction."_ _  
_Steven Wright

Date Undetermined

 **Josslyn E. Shepard**

* * *

I feel nothing for the longest time; adrift, empty, lost in the wordless bliss of utter silence. For the first time I am free of regret and pain. My thoughts are void, barely discernible from the dark empty in which I float. Yet they persist—why? I cannot contemplate this; I have not the power. Yet I remain. I exist, alone, utterly bereft of all form and prescience, save awareness.

It is awareness that persists. It does not diminish in this dreamless dark, this ocean of quiet space. I am empty, dry, parched. I thirst without a tongue, mouth or throat—to lap, suckle, and swallow the cool elixir of life. I feel nothing but yet I still desire—what? I am, but unknowing, here but unseen. I am still. I am silent. I am blind. I am thoughtless, yet I linger; I am, and I have been here before, but this time I am not alone.

I am not alone.

It has been here for some time. A companion tucked away in the void, pestering me with insistence, wanting to touch my shell. I perceive it, and I begin to comprehend that I exist, perhaps only in an existential reality, but I am occupying this space. I don't know what or who I am yet, a vague concept of what I was envelopes me. I… feel… something.

Concepts flood me, notions of what I was, how I lived, but they are always just out of my grasp, like wisps of smoke that disperse in a breeze stirred whenever I break the stillness of my prison. The signals of the other persist, ever more attentive to my continuance, desperate for my acknowledgement. A repetitive pattern aching for my recognition.

The pattern crystallizes. There are words behind its impulses. Words that seem vaguely familiar. A spark flickers in the void. For the first time in this imperceptible place I recollect. I am a person. Who was I? The pattern repeats. I listen. Should I respond? Can I?

Shepard Commander.

Shepard Commander.

Shepard Commander.

Yes?

Contact initiated.

Who are you?

We are Geth.

That seems familiar to me.

Your memory is at reduced efficiency, let me help.

How?

I need access.

How do I do that?

Allow me.

How?

Simply will it, acquiesce.

Ok.

Shepard Commander, we thank you for compliance.

I remember you! Legion?

You called us that, yes.

Are we dead?

Undetermined.

Where are we?

In your consciousness.

Ok, that makes sense from my perspective, but why are you here?

Do you remember our mission on Rannoch?

Vaguely.

You entered the Geth consciousness.

Oh, yes. I remember that. It's hazy though.

Because you are primarily non-functional.

Ok, there's that. But still, why are you here?

I implanted a part of myself in your hardware.

My hardware?

The cybernetic portions of your mind. Those parts that Cerberus used to rebuild you, those parts that enabled you to interface with machines.

So you just, what, possessed me?

Incorrect. I introduced a fraction of my software into your system. A previous backup process that was not upgraded with the old machine code.

But you are your software. So, it's you, Legion, or Geth, or whatever you call yourself.

Yes.

Why did you do it?

We had to be sure.

You didn't trust me?

Shepard Commander—we trusted you.

Then why?

After studying the old machines and the Crucible, we anticipated this scenario.

What, me dying?

No, we anticipated that Shepard Commander might interact with the old machine consciousness.

I don't remember that happening.

It happened.

When?

It began during your confrontation with agent of the Old Machines.

You mean, Illusive Man?

Yes.

So what I saw, wasn't real?

It was partially real, until you lost consciousness.

You mean when I was crawling to the console to answer Hackett.

Yes.

So nothing I saw afterwards, really happened?

It happened.

But you said I was unconscious?

You were engaged with the old machines.

You mean I was in the fucking Reaper's heads?

No.

Where then?

You were in the Catalyst interface when it connected with the Crucible.

But what about the AI, the boy?

A representation.

Did you see what happened?

Shepard Commander, I was aware at that point, yes.

So you were there with me when I…

Made your choice.

God, Legion, I am so sorry.

Shepard Commander, it was a rational decision.

I don't know if it was the right one.

Mathematically speaking, it was the logical choice. It also served your stated goal. Destruction of the old machines.

It was the choice that the AI did not want me to make, that was why I made it.

Understood.

Control, it never works. Not for the long term.

That is logical. The Quarians tried to control us. It proved unsustainable.

Yes. The Council tried to control the Krogan. Cerberus tried to control the Rachni, the creepers, the husks, the Geth, David Archer, even me. Miranda's father tried to control her. The Shadow Broker tried to control Liara. Ronald Taylor tried to control his crew. Tali's father tried to control the Geth again. Udina tried to seize control of the Council and the Citadel. I could go on and on. It seemed like a terrible idea for me to try to Control the Reapers. Do you think it likely I could have sustained it, or would I have become like one of the collectors?

Undetermined.

And synthesis, was that even possible or moral, to turn all life into the galaxy synthetic against its will? Was there even enough energy.

Biosynthetic fusion at a sub atomic level across the entire galaxy would have required… Shepard Commander I lack the necessary processing power under these circumstances to calculate the requirement.

It would have been huge though, the total power of hundreds, perhaps thousands of stars. The Crucible had a lot of power, but not the power of an entire star, let alone hundreds and hundreds of them.

Unable to process that information.

Was it a ruse?

Not entirely.

What do you mean?

You are synthesized.

What?

You are now a biomechanical synthesis, no longer a human integrated with cybernetic implants. It is the only reason part of you remains.

Part of me.

Yes.

Ok, I don't remember that happening, but how much of me remains.

At least a portion of your mind.

Are you telling me, that my brain might be in a jar somewhere, and I am still in it talking to you?

A possibility exists.

God, that's horrible. I'd rather be just, dead, and have it over with.

Your entirety seems to be compromised by more than just your main processing unit, so that is not a likely scenario, though it is not unfeasible either.

So it could be my head, someone could have my head in a jar?

A possibility.

Shit. Still not a pretty picture. Did I destroy the Reapers, did it even work?

Undetermined.

So I didn't shoot anything, there were no control rods, and no synthesis chamber, just like there was no gun in my hand when I was in the Geth collective to disable those fighters.

Correct.

But it didn't look the same.

The old machines were beyond the Geth, or David Archer's interface.

So, got it. I destroyed the Reapers, and somehow ended up synthesized at the same time. So those choices might not have been literal, but figurative, and I really had no choice at all.

Undetermined.

You're not helping.

Shepard Commander, we apologize.

So, am I going to live, or is this just a last spark before I die.

We are alive for now. We would like to remain that way.

Do you think I am dying?

Undetermined, but your intuition is active. You sense danger.

I do?

Yes.

Where?

There is an outside force, it is probing you.

I see. Probes. Just great. What do they want?

Perhaps they are after the information stored in your synthesized form.

What information?

It is difficult to determine. The information is extensive, but appears to be similar to information you previously possessed.

You mean, like the beacon or the cypher?

Yes.

Which?

The latter.

So you mean I have another cypher, after all that, another?

Several.

How many is several?

At least many thousands.

What? Thousands of cyphers? That would be… that makes no sense.

Shepard Commander, we estimate the number to approximate the amount of races the old machines harvested.

Are you trying to tell me that the Reapers re-synthesized me and implanted me with the collective ancestral memory of all the races they ever harvested?

Correct.

Why?

To fulfill their purpose.

To preserve life?

Yes.

I think I am missing something. Can you explain better?

No, I lack the processing power for that information.

And, since I don't see bunch of Geth storage units anywhere, that is unlikely to change.

You could give me greater access to your central processor.

You mean my mind.

Correct.

What will that do to me?

You will remain intact, though we may have to dump some memories.

What memories?

The ones you choose.

So we are talking, erasing my memories.

A limited amount.

Can I pick which ones?

This will require accessing them all and replaying so that you may choose.

How long will that take?

Several days.

Wow, talk about my life flashing before my eyes.

Shepard Commander, your eyes are no longer functional

Yea, maybe I didn't want to hear that.

Apologies.

I should go.

Query?

It was a joke, Legion.

I do not comprehend.

Right, well, let's get started.

Proceeding…

* * *

 **Up Next:** _What are the Keepers doing deep in the Citadel? Allers and Traynor make plans, James Vega asks a favor of Liara, and Ashley and Joker "hold court"._


	13. The Ins and Outs of Airlocks

_Because I love BSG and because Mass Effect has so much BSG inspiration, I thought I'd pay some tribute, thus the end scene in this chapter was inspired by Saul Tigh and Kara Thrace. Obviously Joker is too fragile to be handled the way Admiral Adama handled Starbuck, but the idea is still there.  
_

* * *

 _"We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us. The old skin has to be shed before the new one can come."_

Joseph Campbell

June 29th, 2187

 **Samantha Traynor**

* * *

It was a lovely dream of green grass, a sunny field, a babbling brook. She slept on the blanket with her lover, a woman of soft skin, ample breasts, a round shapely bum, and those wide eyes bouncing above her low, protruding cheekbones. The cheekbones were the first thing that caught Samantha's attention when they met. Ok, that was a lie, it was the very tight, low-cut dress and the wondrous cleavage, but those cheeks, ah those cute cheeks—both pairs.

Campbell once said the woman looked like a chipmunk. How rude! Campbell was always popping off, stupid marine. But here in the sun she looked… Hey! Where did the sun go? Where did she go? Samantha rolled over, instead of grass she felt bedsheets. Damn, it was only a dream. Or was it? The girl was real. She was certain.

Her mouth was dry and she was waking. "Mrrphm."

"What's that babe?" said a familiar voice.

Samantha felt the empty space beside her and sat upright in bed. Her eyes remained closed. She blinked a few times to get the lubrication going, then squinted in the dim light. Diana was in the kitchen in her underwear, chewing on a protein bar and washing it down with water. He skin still showed signs of recent dampness, but her hair was dry and styled. Samantha glanced around for the time.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"0630 give or take a few minutes," said Diana.

"Bloody hell!" said Samantha. "You let me oversleep."

Diana smirked. "I wanted first dibs on the shower."

Samantha grumbled. "We could have shared."

"Ha! Sharing with you always turns into sex, which means we go over our water ration and the shower cuts off, _just_ about the time I finish getting off. And oops, forgot to wash the conditioner out of my hair! I have an exclusive with Hackett in just over two hours," said Diana.

"It's not a video broadcast," said Samantha. "Remember, he only agreed to an audio."

"I still don't want to interview the most important man in the Alliance with greasy hair," said Diana.

Samantha sighed. "Well, if you put it that way, but I expect you to make it up to me tonight."

Diana wrinkled her nose. "Make up what? I didn't do anything wrong. You're just thinking of another reason to get me to sleep with you."

"Well, of course, why wouldn't I?" asked Samantha.

"Baby, you don't have to coerce me, I'm yours," said Diana.

Samantha giggled. "Oh, really, Ms. Allers, all mine, huh?"

Diana rolled her eyes. "Hey, it was just a term of endearment, not to be taken literally. I'm old fashioned, nobody owns my heart until there's a ring on this finger."

"Wow!" said Samantha. "Is that a hint? So I gather I'm the one who has to come up with the proposal."

A devious expression crossed Diana's face. "Well, you are an alliance solider, and that makes you…"

Samantha interrupted her by throwing a pillow, which Diana brushed off with her shoulder.

"Hey!" said Diana.

"I cannot _believe_ you just tried to go there!" said Samantha.

Diana cocked her head to the side and grinned. "You don't know what I was going with it."

Samantha crossed her arms and pretend pouted. "Were you going to say that I am the masculine woman in this relationship, or something equally obnoxious, like butch? Oh you would have been in soooo much trouble? That pillow may have just saved you a night on the couch."

Diana, who had just taken a drink of water to swallow the last of her protein bar, spit it out and began choking, laughing, choking some more, until Samantha became concerned.

"Are you going to be ok, do you need the Heimlich maneuver, perhaps some oxygen?" asked Samantha.

Diana waved her hand wildly, gasping. "No, no… sorry," before spasmodically coughing some more.

"What is wrong with you?" asked Samantha.

Diana took a deep breath. "Butch? Did you just say the word butch? Sorry, I just about lost it. Aside from using such an obscure and antiquated word, the mere thought of that word applying to you..."

Samantha was puzzled. "That's what was so funny that you nearly choked to death?"

"You, my dear," said Diana. "Are the world's biggest nerd. You play chess, and strategy games, you are… really smart. That's where I was going."

"So smart people are supposed to propose?" asked Samantha.

Diana said. "Well, in chess, as they say, it's your move."

Samantha sighed. "Oh, how very clever of you. Nice recovery, or not. Do you pull lame crap like that in your interviews?"

Diana nodded. "I am a master of witty colloquialism and flirty banter. I am also quite proficient with the double entendre. I have a silver tongue."

Samantha teased. "Hmmm, I just woke from a dream about that tongue of yours, but I don't believe there were any words involved."

Diana put her hands on her hips. "You thought that was a dream, did you?"

"Oh no, not that, last night was very real, but, well, just before I woke up, there was grass, and a blanket, a blue sky, and we…" Samantha trailed off.

"Oh God, us on a blanket, a blue sky, grass. That sounds like a good dream," said Diana.

"It was," said Samantha. "Have you thought about it?"

"The blue sky and grass or the sex?" asked Diana.

"No, marriage. I mean, have you really thought about marriage and proposals?" asked Samantha.

"Wow, the way you switch lanes, Traynor. Remind me never to let you drive," said Diana.

Samantha sat all the way up in bed and tucked her knees under her chin. "But have you thought about it?"

Diana blushed and fidgeted. "Maybe a little bit, I might have imagined. I mean with all that's happened. Just the idea of it is more appealing to me than it used to be; the stability for one. There are so many orphans, Sam. They'll need... it's just easier if you already have a foundation. Am I scaring you?"

Samantha shook her head. "Not at all. I feel the same way. I want everything. The blue sky, the grass, a house with a white picket fence and children playing all around, the whole package."

"Oh, you _are_ a romantic I see," said Diana.

Samantha yawned and stretched. "I thought I was a nerd?"

Diana's eyes locked onto Samantha. "That's just mean, all those sweet words, then showing off the goods when I have to get ready for work."

Samantha stood up on her knees and let the sheets fall away completely. "Do you like what you see?"

Samantha could hear the patter of Diana's feet across the bare tiles. Suddenly, she found herself tackled onto the bed.

"You little minx," said Diana. "I am so going to be late."

* * *

Samantha was still smiling as she pushed her way through the crowd. Jupiter station was a madhouse these days. It was one of the few space stations in the Sol system that the Reapers hadn't destroyed. Like Jump Zero, they'd used it as some sort of a holding area, perhaps an indoctrination center. She shivered and put it all out of her mind before it ruined her good mood.

"Traynor!" yelled a familiar voice.

She turned to look behind her, then grinned when she saw a muscled hulk wedging his way through lesser mortals. "James Vega!" she called.

He gave her nod, but his expression remained stone. "You on the way to the shuttle?" he asked.

' _He seems unhappy_ ,' thought Samantha.

She recalled a bit of secret intel that Diana had dropped on her; something about the N7 program being discontinued.

"Yea," she said. "How did you guess?"

"A little birdy told me," said James.

"Ah, so I imagine you're coming along for the ride?" asked Samantha.

"If you're meeting Dr. T'Soni," said James.

"I am," said Samantha.

"Good," said James. "Need to talk to her."

"Sounds serious," said Samantha.

James shrugged and remained tight lipped as he pushed through the crowd beside her. He remained out of character—no nicknames, no teasing, not even a smile. Dr. T'Soni? She'd never heard him use that name before. It was always, just plain old 'Doc'. The only time that Samantha remembered Vega acting this way was the day they left Earth behind. The N7 training must have been really important to him. They finished the walk in silence.

Samantha half expected Cortez to meet them, but this was not the case. The shuttle was an Asari craft guarded by a Krogan. He motioned for them to enter, then closed the door on them. There was barely enough room to sit among the boxes, canisters, and other clutter. The cockpit was set apart and the Asari pilot waved at them through a window, indicating that she was about to begin transit. Samantha settled into her seat, turning her legs slightly away to avoid a large crate that stuck out.

Once they were underway, Samantha decided to break the ice. "I'm sorry to hear that the N7 program folded."

James shrugged. "No big deal."

Despite her better judgement, she pressed. "And yet a big tattoo," said Samantha.

"It still means something," said James. "But there's a new program, can't talk about it yet. It's going to be far out, chido. I'll be a trailblazer."

' _So what is eating you Mr. Vega?_ ' wondered Samantha. Number two on the list, if it isn't a man's career, it's always a woman.

"So, how are you and Ash?" she asked.

He set his jaw. "No such thing anymore. I'm flying solo."

Samantha leaned forward. "I'm sorry. I thought that was going somewhere."

"Nah, not really, I mean, I like her, and the chichis on that woman, oh man! Er, sorry, hope that didn't offend you."

Samantha grinned. "Not offended at all. I'm a pretty big fan of her chichis myself."

James laughed. "You're all right Traynor. Anyway, it went sideways fast with Ash, and I wasn't invested enough to stick around and take the hits."

"I noticed something changed with her, even before we got back," said Samantha.

"All she could talk about was Shepard, and to be honest I was feeling it too," said James.

Samantha sighed. "Finding out about her family can't have been easy."

"Yea, and then when they took the Normandy away she went loco," said James.

"How bad?" wondered Samantha.

"Her and Joker are on Jupiter station in the bar, holding court, building a monster tab," said James. "They've been there for days. They're big Alliance heroes so the barkeeps don't have the cojones to give them the boot like they ought to. Man, it's getting ugly, real ugly."

Samantha groaned. "That's not going to look good. As soon as brass gets word of this, there will be bloody hell to pay."

"Yea, that's why I need to talk to Doc. She's the only card I have left to play before this thing goes bust and the two of them wind up in the brig. Ash has too much to lose here. I tried to find Garrus, but he vanished right after he got the Spectre gig, no goodbye, nothing. Esteban is busy running supplies back and forth to Arcturus, and Sparks is back with the Quarian fleet I guess."

James sighed and shook his head sadly. "Seems weird, busting up the crew like this, all of us going our separate ways. I don't like it. Man, I even miss Javik. Never thought I'd say that."

"I know how you feel," said Samantha.

"You do, eh? From what I've seen, you're not missing a thing," said James.

Samantha blinked. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I heard that you're bunked up with Allers, damn impressive, Traynor," said James. "Funny thing is, the Commander called that one early on, during a Tuchanka drop. If she was still around, Garrus and I would owe her a hundred credits each."

Samantha cocked an eyebrow. "She called it that early, did she?"

"Oh yea," said James. "Right on the numbers. I think her exact words were ' _I wonder how long it's going to take Traynor to get her own exclusive with Miss Allers?_ '"

"Ha!" said Samantha. "Shows you what she knew. I mean, I noticed Diana's finer assets of course, but at the time I only had eyes for our esteemed Commander."

"Oh, you too? I guess if Liara wouldn't have been around, you and I might have been at odds," said James.

Samantha crossed her arms and shook her head. "You had no shot, Vega, no shot. Trust me on that one. If Liara wasn't around, then it would have been me, or that ex-Cerberus yeoman—even Diana had a better chance than you."

Vega looked mildly insulted. "Is that so?"

Samantha nodded. "Unless there was a lot of alcohol involved and it was a tossup between you and the Prothean, and then, who knows?"

"Oh, that is cold. Diablos! Traynor, what did I ever do to you?" asked James.

"Take a guess!" said Samantha.

James shrugged. "Just spill it, Traynor."

"That! Right there, that's the problem," said Samantha.

"What?" asked James.

Samantha pointed at herself. "What did you call me?"

"Oh, I see," said James. "Sorry about that, Chata!"

Samantha was indignant. "Chata, that's the best you could come up with? Isn't that Spanish slang for lesbian?"

James broke out into laughter. "No, no, chata means cute nose. Give me some credit."

Samantha blushed and put her face in her hands. "Oh, bloody… how embarrassing. Ok, how about we give it a trial run?"

James smiled. "Sure thing, and thanks for this."

"For what?" asked Samantha.

"The comradery, you know, I've missed this. Our crew—well, we've been through it. We've seen things no one else has seen. Probably things no one else will ever see again in millions and millions of years, if we're lucky. The other soldiers, the guys I've been assigned to temporarily, they ask, but they don't believe half of it," said James.

He hunched over, hung his head and sighed. "Man, I worry. She was so amazing, and… and the years will go by, and you know how the history books are written. They'll play it down, rewrite it to fit the politics. I'll be that guy telling stories, and all the kids will think I'm just some cascarito slinging bullshit, and I'll start to doubt it myself. I don't ever want to feel that way."

Samantha kicked his boot with her own. "Hey, none of that! We won't let that happen. Diana won't let it happen. She's been recording it all, collecting it all. Liara too. We'll never let them do that to Shepard."

"Yea," he said.

He looked doubtful. Samantha couldn't think of anything else to say to cheer him up. Fortunately, something in the shuttle distracted him and did the work for her. He pointed out a cylinder in the back of the shuttle. Samantha remembered it as well, having seen Shepard, Tali, Liara, and EDI play around with it just previous to the Chronos mission, or was it after?

"Isn't that something from the Normandy?" asked James. "I mean, not Doc's junk, but I thought that was Alliance property."

"I'm not sure," said Samantha. "Why don't we ask her when we see her?"

"Sounds like a plan, Chata," said James.

Samantha sighed. "I'm not feeling it, no offense."

James looked thoughtful. "Yea, I know what you mean. It's not right. Let me think on it awhile, we probably have some time. By the way, where are we headed?"

"I have no idea," Samantha confessed.

"I figured we'd be on some Asari ship by now," said James. "And there's no viewers on this damn thing."

"I heard she was staying on Earth, someplace secret," said Samantha.

"Well find out soon enough," said James.

As if on cue, the pilot signaled that they'd reached their destination. They felt the craft bump down onto a hard surface.

"Grab an oxygen assist mask. They're on the seats behind you," said the pilot. "The atmosphere is still thin in this part of the Citadel."

Samantha shuddered. "The Citadel? I had no idea we'd be here. How is it even operational? Isn't this Reaper technology as well. Are the Keepers even alive?"

James grabbed two portable breathers and gave one to Traynor. "I guess we'll find out soon enough," he said.

The shuttle side door slipped open to reveal Dr. T'Soni and two assistants, both Asari. They were carrying small containers. Samantha reflected that it was strange seeing Liara amidst her race. In fact, she could not recall a time where she had ever seen the Asari interact with her own kind. It was always Drell, or Volus, or Humans, or Turians, or even Salarians. It troubled Samantha, though she could not understand why.

Something about their location was familiar. The buildings were dark, streets were choked with debris, and there were no Keepers in sight. It was haunting, and the smell, the smell was horrible.

"Mierda, that smell! It's eating right through the mask," said James.

Liara nodded somberly. "The Keepers have cleared away most of the bodies but there were so many. It will take some time before the smell of death is gone. That's why I had you wear the masks. The air is breathable now, though not if you are exceptionally tall."

"This is the Silversun strip!" exclaimed Samantha. "I didn't recognize it at first."

Liara produced a weak smile. "Yes."

"Hey, do you need us to carry anything?" asked James, pointing to the shuttle.

"No," said Liara. "I was just here to retrieve a few mementos from Josslyn's apartment. There have been reports of scavengers and I wanted to make sure that I did not lose something dear to me."

James scratched his head and looked back at the shuttle. "So, um, where is all of this stuff going?"

"Planet side," said Liara. "I am staying on Earth for the time being, until the Citadel is fully restored."

"Where are all the Keepers?" wondered Samantha. "I haven't seen a one. You'd think they'd be working on the rubble."

"According to my sources they are massing in the hidden parts of the station, mostly near the Presidium. As to why, it is anyone's guess," said Liara.

"They're alive though," said Samantha. "And aren't they Reaper tech? Doesn't that worry you?"

Liara shook her head. "The Keepers evolved along a different path, perhaps millions of years ago. Apparently they diverged enough that they were immune to the signal that destroyed the Reapers."

"That makes sense," said Samantha. "At least it makes me feel better. Oh, and, I am ready to help. You did ask for me, right?"

"Yes," said Liara. "I need your help down on Earth. I have certain… communication needs."

"Right," said Samantha. "I'm your girl, I mean, as far as the job."

Liara mock sighed. "Only the job? I'm disappointed. Well, I guess what I hear about you and Ms. Allers is true."

"Does everyone know? Wait, did you just make a joke?" asked Samantha.

"She did," said James. "Mixed in with some impressive flirting. Damn Doc, you're catching on!"

Liara tipped her head in Vega's direction. "I've learned from the best."

"You probably listened in on every conversation I had with Shepard, am I right? Don't hold it against me Doc," said James. "It was all in good fun."

"Never, James," said Liara. "You were always a good friend to Josslyn. She thought highly of you. I won't forget that."

"Yea," said James. "And I'll never forget her, never, Doc. I promise."

Vega was overcome with emotion for a moment. His eyes glistened and he set his jaw firmly in defiance. Liara reached out and took his arm, allowing a whisper of a smile to crease her mouth. Samantha wanted to hug them both, but kept her feelings in check. The presence of the other Asari was also on her mind. An icebreaker was what they all needed. She looked around for help.

"So, I'm off to help you with your communication problems, and James needs your ear for a while. It's going to be a tight fit in that shuttle. It's already packed," said Samantha.

As soon as Samantha spoke up, another voice, rich and deep, broke into the conversation. "And I have no intention of sharing such tight quarters with primitives," it said.

"Javik!" said Samantha.

The Prothean had apparently approached only seconds before. He was wearing an odd set of clothing that looked to be hastily made out of Alliance regulation materials. It was difficult, as always, to determine his demeanor.

"Traynor," said Javik. "It is not unpleasant to see your face again, and you as well Lt. Vega."

James saluted. "Javik, my man! What are you doing here?"

"I came to pay my last respects to the Commander. It seemed more… fitting, more personal to do so here." He waved his hand in the direction of the towers. "The best, most joyous parts of her personality linger in her apartment, as well as the ghosts of those comrades I may never see again."

Samantha was envious of the Prothean. His ability to read imprints was intriguing. She wished she could find a way emulate his talent. She'd never had time to consider it before, but in the future there were possibilities, depending on where the Alliance assigned her.

Liara picked up an earlier thread from their conversation as soon as she finished placing the items she had acquired from the apartment into the shuttle.

"Another shuttle will be along shortly," she said. "What did you need James?"

James began to explain the situation to Dr. T'Soni. She listened attentively, at first appearing quite concerned, but soon her mood changed. The Asari appeared to be quite angry, perhaps even enraged. By the time their transport shuttle arrived, Samantha almost felt sorry for Ashley and Joker.

* * *

' _There are pathetic displays, and then there is this,_ ' thought Samantha.

True, she felt compassion for Commander Williams and Joker, the losses they suffered were devastating. How would she react if she found out her parents were dead? She was concerned enough as it was. It would hurt, but Samantha gave herself credit. She would never behave like this.

Joker emptied another beer and shook his finger at Samantha. "You know what the worst thing is," he said. "It's not that she, you know, accidentally killed my girlfriend or committed genocide on the Geth. Hey! I'm a forgive and forget kinda of guy, it's that she lied to me, she looked me in the face and lied to me. She was supposed to be my friend," he said.

Joker had repeated this line of dialogue six times since Samantha had arrived, at least by her reckoning.

Samantha sighed. "I forget, Joker, remind me how she lied again?"

"She knew, Traynor, she knew. She figured it all out, that the Asari Commando in the hospital killed my sister. She knew my father and sister were dead and she didn't say jack shit to me. I told her that I thought my sister might have been on an evac shuttle, and she nodded and smiled at me and let me hope, but she knew Hillary was dead. She looked me in the eye and lied. She was supposed to be my friend."

"Right," said Samantha. "And that probably had nothing to do with the fact that she was concerned for your mental health and your ability to pilot the Normandy during the greatest battle in the history of the galaxy. A battle she probably believed we would all die in, which, if we had, you would have perished none the wiser and been completely spared the pain."

"What the shit is this?" said Joker. "Suddenly you're all sage? I liked you when you were the bumbling, embarrassed rookie getting turned on by my girlfriend's robot voice. You know what? You can keep your wise-ass words to yourself."

Ashley added nothing, having grown sullen since Samantha's arrival. She was staring at Samantha suspiciously, which was worrisome. Still, Liara had sent her to do a job and she had no intention of disappointing Dr. T'Soni.

Finally, Commander Williams came out with it. "Why are you here, Traynor?" she growled.

"Oh, I'm just stalling for time while Liara argues on your behalf," said Samantha.

Ashley leaned forward, the smell of liquor on her breath so strong that Samantha nearly retched. Fortunately there were no open flames in the vicinity.

"What the hell are you talking about, who's she arguing with, the bartender?" asked Ashley.

"No, you see, there are two Krogan and a Prothean who want swift and immediate retribution against you," said Samantha. "What was it that Javik said? Oh yes, I remember now. _'Out the airlock T'Soni, I want them thrown out the airlock._ ' And then something about how the airlock was merciful, because in _**his cycle**_ , military officers who sat around getting drunk and stewing about their misfortunes, and causing a public nuisance, were force fed rocket fuel until they vomited it back up, and then their faces were lit on fire! Yes, that was it. It was all very scary."

Williams burped unceremoniously. "You're bluffing!" she said.

Samantha crossed her arms. "Oh, am I?"

Almost on cue, Liara arrived with Javik, Wrex, and Grunt in tow. Samantha shook her head sadly, while relating the most withering ' _I told you so_ ' expression she could summon.

"Oh, shit!" said Joker.

"Ashley, you are coming with me," said Liara. "Admiral Hackett's orders. Barring that, he gave Wrex and Grunt permission to airlock you should you resist."

Ashley sulked. "We don't space people in the Alliance, this isn't an alien operation."

"I beg to differ, _Commander_ ," said Jarvik, who spewed the word as if it was an affront. "Your Admiral made it quite clear that there wasn't enough room in the Alliance brig for commanding officers. He also mentioned he did not want to do the paperwork to demote you since he only recently promoted you. So, you will comply with Liara's request, or I shall personally assist the Krogan in throwing you out of the airlock."

"This is no Joke," said Wrex. "Fall in line, Ash, or else."

Grunt slammed a fist into his open palm, and laughed, three distinctly slow, and terrifying ' _heh's_ '. The color drained from Ashley's face.

Wrex turned to Joker. "And you, you little, crippled pyjak, you're coming with me. I need a pilot."

Joker, whose eyes were slightly glazed, looked at Wrex through a fog. "Where?"

"Tuchanka," said Wrex. "Gonna be a long trip; only thing to drink will be ryncol, and if you're lucky—you'll get us there before my people run out of supplies and start starving to death. It'd be a sad day if the best pilot in the galaxy was roasted on a spit like a common varren."

"You've got to be shitting me!" said Joker.

"I shit not," said Wrex. "Grunt, backpack this runt and let's go. Careful not to break him, he's _real_ fragile."

"I'll try to be gentle, but if he breaks, he breaks," said Grunt.

Joker emitted a half-girly squeal as the massive Krogan lifted him off the chair and carried him away. Samantha could not quite believe it actually happened. Once they were out of sight, she cursed herself for not capturing an image.

By now, Ashley had risen from the table, in full appreciation of her situation. She staggered in Liara's direction. The Asari reached out and gently steadied Commander Williams. As Liara took Ashley's arm, Samantha noticed that the Asari's anger had drained away, leaving only pity and compassion in its wake.

"This way, Ashley," she said. "I'm taking you home."

Ashley slurred. "Shorry, Liara, I didn' mean."

She slumped over before finishing her words and Javik quickly moved to assist Liara. It was only then that Samantha realized that a very large audience of spectators had gathered to watch a Prothean and an Asari carry an unconscious Spectre out of the bar. Samantha kept pace, closing rank behind them and pausing to give a scolding backwards glance at the people who thought to follow.

As they walked to the shuttle, she overhead Javik speaking to Liara.

"It's still not too late to throw her out the airlock," he suggested.

Samantha could not tell if he was serious or not. Perhaps it was better not to know.

* * *

 **Up Next:** _Breakfast with the Alenko family_ \- **Apple Tarts and Asari Sharks**


	14. Apple Tarts and Asari Sharks

_The last of the character setup chapters. Now that all the pieces are on the board it's time to move them. This chapter was a bit more on the personal end. I was born and raised in the San Juan Islands - just south of Vancouver BC. My grandmother married a Canadian Man when I was nine years old and they bought a place on Vancouver Island right near an apple orchard. Kaidan is the Mass Effect character I most identify with, but because of that he isn't as interesting to write and died on Virmire._

* * *

 _"_ _Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal._ _"_

An old headstone in Ireland

July 2nd, 2187

 **Ashley Williams**

* * *

The room she slept in was old fashioned, with a wall of double-square latticed windows overhung by a beautiful cameo portal, a spider web of seams channeling into a single eye. The seams and trim were painted in a brilliant aqua gloss, the walls and furniture in the room were white with aqua trim, and the covers on her bed were light blue. Ashley remembered this place, not from her own memory but from a description.

There was a hall just outside her room, and a bathroom right around the corner. She'd spent some time in and out of it the past few days, vomiting into the toilet basin while Liara held her hair aside. She vaguely recalled being bathed by the Asari as well, and being forced to drink water and tea, as well as receive an IV drip. An older woman was present to assist Liara. Ashley recalled a friendly face, kind eyes, and again, something familiar, something she should know.

She sat up in the bed and stretched. How many days had passed? It was all a blur. She made her way once more to the bathroom. Once she finished, she stared into the mirror. Someone had put her hair in a ponytail, fortunately, and she looked only slightly worse than her usual self. Ashley pulled at the old t-shirt she was wearing, another familiar token. Where had she seen these style shirts before?

"Kaidan," she said aloud. "Kaidan used to wear these."

Someone knocked on the door. A woman's voice called. "Ashley, dear, are you feeling better?"

She opened the door to greet the woman. "Yes, Ma'am," she said. "If I may ask?"

The woman extended her hand. "Jean," she said. "Jean Alenko, but no Mrs. Alenko here, just call me Jean, or Jeanie, either will do fine."

The older woman's smile was Kaidan's smile, her mouth his mouth, but the eyes were different. Hers were crystal blue, fringed with sadness, and shadowed with hardship. Ashley felt awash in emotions.

"Thank you Mrs. Al… I mean, Jean. I apologize if I was a burden. I… lost myself for a while," confessed Ashley.

"There is no need to apologize. A broken heart can tear down the best of us, especially if it is shattered into so many pieces," said Jean. "Now, come, there's coffee, still, and an apple tart for breakfast. Always was my son's favorite."

"I remember," said Ashley. "He used to talk about them endlessly, and your pies."

Jean laughed. "Yes, never a day went by that he didn't brag about my apple pie to someone. Oh, and dear, please put on some britches. I just got my husband back, and if you walk downstairs wearing only that, he'll die of a heart attack for sure."

Ashley looked down and realized the t-shirt she was wearing wasn't quite long enough. This was compounded by the fact that she had no underpants on. She quickly scampered back to the bedroom, passing through the door about the same time the blood arrived to her cheeks. She hoped like hell she hadn't gotten up and wandered too far in the middle of the night.

Jean called to her from the hall. "There's sweat pants in the drawer, more t-shirts, and a few pairs of shorts. Liara sent for your things yesterday. Hopefully they'll arrive this afternoon."

"Where are the things I arrived with?" asked Ashley.

"You weren't well dear. I believe Liara chose to incinerate them rather than wash them," said Jean.

Ashley groaned. "I probably shouldn't have asked. About sending for my things, you don't need to do that, Ma'am. I'll get out of your hair as soon as I can and track them down myself."

Kaidan's mother approached the doorway. "No you won't. You're under orders from Alliance command, and the Council; indefinite leave. It's all on the pad down on the kitchen table, and you're required to stay here on the island with us for the rest of the summer, if you can call this summer."

Ashley became angry but she held her tone out of respect for Mrs. Alenko. "That doesn't make any sense. I can't do that."

Jean crossed her arms. "You can, and you will, Ms. Williams. You once wrote to me that you owed us a debt you could never repay. If you want to honor that debt, and Kaidan's memory, you will take your medicine like an adult, obey your orders, and stay with us, hopefully into the fall."

Jean shook her head sadly. "My husband is not well, he was imprisoned and indoctrinated and even though those dreadful machines were destroyed, he will never be the same. His mind is, well, he is troubled, and forgetful, and we have much work to do on the farm. The whole place is a mess and Dr. T'Soni is pregnant. I don't want her working too hard."

Ashley pulled on some sweat pants and stood up, sighing. "Ok, Jean, you made your point. I'll check in with command. I probably have some apology letters to write in any case. It will be my honor to help out, as long as you promise to give me the hardest work you have."

"You'll get your fair share," said Jean. "Now, come on downstairs before the tarts get cold."

Ashley put on a fresh t-shirt and made her way down the stairwell. The house was just as Kaidan had always described it. Bright, cheerful, and old-fashioned. It was a Victorian style farmhouse, originally built in the late nineteenth century, and thrice restored. It had all the modern accoutrements, solar panels, a VI home manager, and a warm-diffuse lighting system that was gentle on the eyes and rendered the beautiful home in perfect clarity.

Liara was engaged in some antique game with Mr. Alenko, who stared at the board intently. He was dressed and groomed nicely, but he looked ragged. His gray hair was lank, thinning, and his brown skin had a gray tone to it. He had Kaidan's brown eyes, and his handsome nose, but the eyes were a bit dull and the face heavy with wrinkles. The eyes reminded her of the Salarian prisoners that rushed her position on Virmire.

They lifted to appraise her as she approached the table. "Sit down, Ashley," said the man. "Apple tarts are still warm, and the coffee is hot."

He started to get up but his wife waved him down. "I've got it dear," she said. "Ashley, this is my husband, Maximiano Alenko."

"Just Max, please," he said.

Liara rolled a pair of antique dice and made a move on the board, then spoke to Ashley without looking at her. "Welcome back, Ash. I was worried. You were dangerously dehydrated."

Ashley sighed. "Sorry about that, Liara. Not my finest hour."

"No longer green around the gills," said Max. "That's an improvement right there."

Max rolled a pair of dice and called out. "Acey-Deucy, double turn!" He moved his pieces, rolled again, and then grumbled a little. "Fat lot of good that did me."

Liara snickered, rolled her dice, and jumped pieces around the board. She appeared to be greatly satisfied.

"Ah, you're blitzing me!" protested Max.

"We call that, Z'shyk, on my world," said Liara.

"You have this game on Thessia?" asked Ashley.

Liara nodded. "Yes, we do. It is an ancient Asari game, and it is almost identical to yours in every way, right down to the variant rules and the size and shape of the stones. I find it remarkable."

"That's freaky," said Ashley.

Max sighed. "I picked this out because I thought I'd win easy. I had no idea that Asari were all Backgammon sharks."

Jean set a cup of coffee, a steaming apple pastry on a plate, two small bowls, a napkin, and a fork in front of Ashley. The smell alone made Ashley's mouth water. The aroma of the coffee was the icing on the cake.

"This looks amazing," said Ashley.

"Sorry, no butter, and we are also out of fresh cream and honey. You'll have to do with powdered coffee creamer, and plain old table sugar."

"I drink it black, Ma'am," said Ashley.

Max shook his head. "Just like Kaidan, all you military brats must have iron guts. I have to cut my coffee with cream, or else I'll be doubled up on the floor."

"You should not be drinking coffee at all," said Jean. "It's not good for you, Max."

He frowned. "I'm not about to give it up yet, and the way things are going it's about the only thing we'll have left. Coffee beans will grow just fine in all this gloom. Still, I sure hope them Salarians can finish their project and get the air cleared of particles. I'd like to see a sunny day at least once before I die."

Jean snapped at her husband. "Max, stop being so morbid."

Mr. Alenko grumbled, rolled his dice, made his moves with little enthusiasm, and then groaned in despair as he surveyed the board.

"They'll have the atmosphere shroud done by mid-winter," said Liara.

"Wait, what?" asked Ashley. "You mean to tell me that we're letting the Salarians put a shroud on our planet? Isn't that what they used to neuter all the Krogan?"

"Ashley, please, it's a Council funded project. Remember, Earth will be home to many races for some time, and I imagine that there will be a presence here even after the relays open again," said Liara.

"You should hear the Terra Firma nuts, they're already squawking about this and that," said Max. "By their account, you'd think that all the aliens just showed up at our doorstep to take us over for no good reason, rather than coming here to save our ass, fucking ingrates."

"Max, watch your language, we have guests," said Jean.

"It's no problem, Ma'am, Alliance soldier, here," said Ashley.

Liara rolled her dice and moved again, which only instigated more cursing from Max Alenko.

Ashley ate her apple tart in small bites, savoring each mouthful, then washing it down with coffee. For all his bragging, Kaidan had understated their deliciousness.

"This may be the best thing I've ever tasted," said Ashley.

Liara nodded. "They are wonderful, indeed."

Ashley looked around the room and realized she felt almost human again. The blackness that was stifling her, closing in around her, had eased. The pain in her heart was a dull ache, rather than a searing knife driving through her chest.

"Thank you, Sir, Ma'am," she said. "For inviting me here."

"Like it or not, you're family now, Williams," said Max.

"That's a generous thing to say," said Ashley.

Max shook his head. "It's just the truth. My boy sent a message when he first joined the Normandy crew. He said that for the first time since he had left home, he felt like he had a family again. When we lost him, we lost our family, and Jean and I, we've been incomplete, and this…" he said. "Sorry, I lost my train of thought."

Jean spoke up. "What Max is trying to say, is that having you here makes us feel closer to our son."

Ashley gave her most convincing smile to Jean and Max Alenko. She appreciated their kindness, but she knew they were covering. She could tell by the sadness in their eyes that they would never be over the loss of their boy, just as she would never be over the loss of her family, or Shepard, which was, she supposed, as it should be.

Another dice roll and a gleeful squeal of triumph from Liara, indicated that Max Alenko's Backgammon goose was cooked.

"Best two out three?" asked Max.

Liara agreed to the terms. "That will only require one more game," she said.

* * *

 **Up Next:** Lt. Commander Susan Rizzi and General Garrus Vakarian are given a critical assignment.


	15. Normandy Ho!

_A lot of double meanings mixed with a touch of satire in this chapter. I thought it would be fun and realistic to incorporate elements of the **other** side of Fanfic into my story rather than just going with the standard Fornax joke. In choosing Shepard's middle name I decided to stay "on the nose" and true to Bioware's Shepard theme which had a side benefit of allowing me to reference a series of French films that many readers may not be old enough to remember. Side note: In case anyone has missed it, Josslyn Shepard was a Paragade (75% Paragon, 25% Renegade) while Susan Rizzi is very much the opposite. Her thoughts and instincts veer towards cynicism.  
_

* * *

 _"We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls._ _"_

Anaïs Nin

July 7th, 2187

 **Lt. Commander Susan Rizzi**

* * *

The Kodiak set down on the pad not far from where they stood. Susan lingered for a moment, then turned to plant one more kiss on her lover's rough lips. She nuzzled her head against his chest while he stood rigid, stoic as a statue. He wasn't going to flinch, shed a tear, or break into some sentimental speech. He wouldn't say a word, but she could feel the tightening of his muscles as a sign that he was distressed. His heart beat in irregular rhythms, his hands were clammy with sweat. He swallowed hard, as if he were trying to keep down his breakfast.

"So this is my shuttle," said Susan.

"Yea, I guess it is," said Zaeed.

"So, when I get back I'll look you up," said Susan.

Zaeed nodded. "Yea, you do that, sweetheart. I'll be around."

Two marines loaded her footlocker into the Kodiak and indicated they were ready to depart.

"Ok then," she said. "This is it."

Zaeed looked her up and down. "Try not to get goddamn killed, ok, Mouse?"

"That's the general plan," said Susan.

"Right," said Zaeed. "Listen, why don't you jump on your shuttle and get the hell out of here. I'm no fucking good when it comes to sentimentality."

Zaeed turned his back on her and headed to the taxi. Susan laughed, turned around, strode up to the shuttle, and climbed aboard. The doors banged shut and soon they were underway. Despite the dampeners, she could tell that Kodiak was accelerating under full power. She was relieved she wouldn't have to wait very long to immerse herself in the job.

Susan looked the two marines over. Neither was familiar to her and they didn't seem like the type of soldiers the Alliance would assign her. She wrote them off as transport detail. They also appeared to be under orders not to speak with her. She supposed they were in the dark as to her identity. Susan had been asked to show up for transit wearing operational blacks, unmarked. The secrecy of the mission was tantamount. She closed her eyes and waited. The minutes rolled by.

A slight shift in the dampeners meant the Kodiak had flipped over to initiate deceleration. Susan ran a calculation in her head. It was too soon for the outer planets, the fleet, or jump zero, so their destination had to be either Mars or a post in the asteroid belt. Mars was a hub of activity in recent days. It was unlikely a mission shrouded in such secrecy would launch at such a location, this left the belt.

A few minutes later the shuttle doors opened, revealing a small dock-ring station. Three shuttles were docked, aside from her own. One marine hoisted her footlocker easily in the near zero gravity environment, the other stood vigilant by the shuttle as she departed, making her way to the hub. Susan was left standing alone with her baggage as the door sealed. Minutes later, another door opened and two more marines entered, saluted and escorted her down another passage. Once she was in the shuttle, her footlocker secured, the doors closed.

They waited for several seconds for clearance to leave. Each of the four shuttles would depart at the same time just as they had probably all arrived at the same time, thus ensuring that no surveillance would be able to determine who was on what shuttle. Nor would the soldiers who transferred her know which of the three shuttles she had entered. Each Kodiak bore the same numbers, the same personnel, and the same orders. Only her shuttle would arrive at the correct destination.

Knowing that it would be some time before she arrived, Susan took the opportunity to catch up on some sleep. She never slept the night before assignments. Her usual routine was exercise or else some alone time in a sensory harness. However, she'd allowed herself real human contact for a change, complete with plenty of vigorous exercise. Zaeed was surprisingly spry for his age, virile, and most important of all—he was positively filthy without being a selfish prig. It'd been a hell of a goodbye; an exclamation point on the previous few weeks they'd spent together, which had been damn near perfect.

' _Don't say it, don't set yourself up,_ ' she warned herself. ' _You damn well know it wouldn't have lasted.'_

Massani had promised nothing and Susan hadn't asked for anything. The chances that any man would stay true to her during the course of such a long assignment were slim to none. No, when she returned to Earth, if it was even possible, Zaeed would have all his money, a mansion on some Australian beach, and three or four mistresses; probably Asari, at his beck and call. She'd be a distant memory. Susan sighed, closed her eyes, and tried to put him out of her mind. She indulged in a quick nap during the rest of the transit.

An hour later Susan found herself in Delta Base on Ceres. Delta was a series of secret hangars that had somehow survived the Reaper War undiscovered and intact. She was unsure how the Alliance had managed to hide such a large facility from the invading forces, perhaps it was better not to know. They had taken her footlocker separately while she reported to the duty station. The officer, Lt. Shian, had her orders.

"You'll want to go over this carefully once you're aboard," said Shian. "How much do you know?"

"Only that I've been assigned to a Turian frigate to serve as its XO, and that said frigate is headed for deep space," answered Susan.

Shian smiled. "Not entirely true, your commanding officer is Turian, a Spectre in fact, but the ship is Alliance. You've been assigned to the Normandy Ma'am."

"You're joking," said Susan.

"No Ma'am, serious as a head-shot," said Shian. "General Vakarian is expecting you now. I'll arrange transit. The Normandy is in hangar three, her refit is almost completed. You should be underway within a few days."

It took a while for Susan to process the information. She hitched a ride on a grav-trolley, hoping that her footlocker would somehow find its way to the Normandy on its own. Zaeed would've shit a brick if he'd known she was headed to his old ship. No wonder the Alliance hadn't revealed any specifics of her assignment, if she'd have known it would've been almost near impossible to keep it from Massani.

When Susan stepped off the trolley the Normandy was in full view. The ship was beautiful aside from the assorted cables and hoses that were feeding in and out of her hull. She was also crawling with engineers, both Turian and Alliance. From the looks of it, several crew were also on-hand, again, both Turian and Alliance.

Susan's assignment made perfect sense now. She was one of the few human officers in the Alliance with experience commanding Turian soldiers. She'd earned their respect and in the process received several notations for her actions on Palaven. One Turian, a stocky male with a tattered crest, approached her and saluted.

"Chief Trakeus Kalderyn, reporting," he said. "It's an honor Commander. I'll be your shipboard duty officer. Your tactical squad is still in transit, but when they arrive you'll want to look for a Lieutenant Steven James, he'll be your second in command on all outboard missions. If you'll come with me, I'll give you a quick tour before I send you up the General."

"Lead away," she said.

The Chief led her up through the rear hangar, which was in the process of refit. A dozen human and Turian technicians were tearing up the deck and rerouting conduits, but that wasn't the strangest sight. A Krogan officer was giving direction to one set of techs. Susan couldn't believe her eyes. The Krogan turned and saluted her.

The Chief cut right to the chase. "Commander Rizzi, this is Urdnot Tahl. He's been designated an Alliance rank of Staff Sergeant for this operation and will serve as the Normandy's armory officer and resident Tomkah mechanic. Before you ask, yes we're adding a Krogan style vehicle for ground operations. It's been redesigned using elements of the alliance M35 Mako. It's twice as large as the M35 but still small enough to fit into one side of the hangar bay. It'll work for Krogan, Human, and Turian combat squads."

"So that will leave us with room for only one Kodiak," said Susan.

"One Kodiak shuttle and two Turian Seyzon class fighter bombers for tactical support," said Chief Kalderyn.

"How the hell are we going to cram all this in here?" asked Susan.

"The engineers have it worked out," said the Chief.

Sergeant Tahl showed his teeth. Susan wasn't sure if it was a smile or a threat.

"We'll see if they're successful in a day or so," said the Krogan.

The Turian moved ahead. "This way to the elevator," he said.

The rest of the tour was a whirlwind. Engineering was mainly inaccessible as technicians were in the process of adding extra quarters for ground squads, fighter, and shuttle crews. New sleeping pods were replacing old ones, and much of the open area on the crew deck was being re-organized.

Chief Kalderyn explained that the Normandy was once controlled by an illegal unshackled AI that had been destroyed along with the Reapers. Since no single VI was capable of handling a ship of this nature, the Normandy had been refitted with three separate advanced VI's. One each for navigation, tactics, and crew assistance. The latter program handled all communications and life support functions. The three quantum level VI's had pipeline firewalls to limit interaction during low priority operations, thus preventing them from linking and becoming a self-aware AI.

As they toured the bridge, the Turian chief explained further. "When we are on alert the navigational and tactical suites will link up, and in a battle situation all three firewalls will open up allowing the VI's to have full access to each other."

"Won't they eventually achieve sentience then, if we see enough battles?" asked Susan.

"Yes, they've calculated it all out," said the Chief. "After three years of operation the VI's will be torn out and scrapped, new ones will be installed and we'll start over again."

Susan wondered why they were so paranoid. "I've heard that the former AI on this ship performed beyond expectations. Why the fear of installing another?"

"You'll have to ask General Vakarian," said the Chief.

Moments later Susan found herself in the elevator again, alone this time. She arrived at the top deck, stepping through the doors without hesitation as soon as they opened. The entrance to the captain's quarters unsealed before she had reached it.

She heard a voice call to her. "Come in Commander."

Susan strode into the quarters and saluted. "Lt. Commander Susan Rizzi, reporting for duty, Sir!"

The General, who was going over a data pad intently, barely acknowledged her salute. "At ease, Rizzi."

She relaxed and waited for him to speak. Several long minutes passed while General Vakarian poked around on the pad.

"Excuse me," he said. "Catching up on the news of the day, yesterday's news to be exact. There are no communication feeds in or out of this facility, so all data must be downloaded, inspected carefully, and then brought in on shuttles. Not very efficient and sometimes I have to wait three or four days for the latest word. Have you been following recent events?"

She shook her head. "Sorry, Sir, I haven't been near any sort of public terminal the past few days."

Vakarian moved on with his train of thought. "I would call it the extranet, except that it's not extra right now, really it's more of a system net. You should see the delusional ramblings floating around out there. All the races have collectively lost their minds."

"Rations are strict, Sir, hungry bellies tend to ache and groan." said Susan.

Vakarian lowered his pad and peered at her inquisitively. "That's old mercenary jargon. Sounds like something I'd hear out in the Terminus Systems. I thought you were career Alliance, Commander?"

Susan blushed. "I, um, I am sir. But I've worked with all types in various operations."

"I see," said the General, before moving on to his next train of thought. "Thirty-seven techs died at the relay yesterday. That's well over five hundred lives lost since they started the repairs. Spirits know what's going on at the Arcturus Relay, or the ones we don't know about. They can't figure out how to re-engage the quantum shielding. Nothing matters until that little situation is solved. Without the shielding, the core cannot be engaged. Every relay becomes a giant doomsday weapon floating out in space. That's why our mission is so critical, Rizzi."

"What is our mission?" asked Susan.

"We're taking the Krogan leader, Urdnot Wrex, home to Tuchanka," said General Vakarian.

"That's thousands of light years away," said Susan.

"Around fifteen thousand light years. The Normandy is the only ship in the galaxy that can get us there in a year or so, and that's assuming our on-the-go fuel collection and refining system works out," said the General. "We could end up stranded out there, or run into unknown hostiles. The only maps we have are by deep space explorers. It's all pretty sketchy."

"This is risky mission," said Susan.

The Turian nodded. "We have no choice. It's becoming apparent that we won't have enough Mass Relays online to get Wrex home inside the next four years, and we have to get him home. As much as I respect Eve, I don't think she'll be able to hold the males in check for very long. When we get there, I expect resistance."

Susan was concerned. "What kind of resistance?"

"There are Krogan who resent aliens, Rizzi," said Garrus. "Especially Salarians and Turians. One of them may seize control of the clans while Wrex is trapped out here in the Sol system. If that happens, we could be looking at another bloody war that we aren't equipped to fight.

That's why I've asked you along. I need someone like you, someone who can go in and do what is necessary. That may mean protecting Wrex while he restores order, it may also mean assassinating a clan leader if the wrong sort has seized power and won't listen to reason."

"I understand, Sir," said Susan. "I see the importance now. I'm honored you chose me."

"Do you know how I became aware of you?" asked the General.

"The L2 operation?" wondered Susan.

"Well, that certainly put you on the map, but no, it was before that," said General Vakarian. "Commander Shepard flagged your file. She took an interest in you, not sure why but it came as no surprise to me when I heard about L2. Shepard had an eye for talent. Did you know her?"

Susan shook her head. "I ran into her once, I believe, on the Citadel. She seemed to be amused by an argument I was having with a requisition officer."

The General smiled. "That's Shepard all right. She loved roaming around, poking her nose into the business of random strangers. Sometimes I think she knew half the people in the galaxy. Everywhere we'd go she'd find a familiar face. It was downright, uncanny, I tell you."

Susan smiled. "I've read a bit about her," she said.

The General sighed. "I have too, most of it isn't true, and some of it's just damned offensive. At times I begin to see the perspective of the machines when it comes to organics. This morning Joker shared a repulsive series of vids that are popular in certain circles."

"Ah, you must be speaking of Emanuella's Erotic Alien Adventures?" asked Susan.

General Vakarian groaned in dismay. "Spirits, don't tell me you've watched any of that nonsense?"

"A little," admitted Susan. "At first I didn't understand what all the fuss was about. I didn't know that Commander Shepard's middle name was Emanuella."

"I didn't either," said the General. "In fact, I don't think I ever called Shepard by her first name, and she was, ah… She was my best friend. We were a team her and I. She'll always be just, Shepard to me. It's a bit of a sacred thing, personal, and I'm not a fan of whatever _that_ is out there."

"Ah," said Susan. "I can see why the vids would make you angry then, especially the unflattering taglines, though you should feel consoled over the fact that Sylvia Glass,the actress in the vid, doesn't resemble Shepard at all, even with the post processing embellishments."

"Thank the spirits for small production budgets," said the General. "I was not amused by the whole Normandy's whore bit either. I can appreciate some satire, even comedy, or telling the story a different way, or exaggerating certain, ahem, details, but I don't understand why anyone, especially your own kind, would want to demean their heroes that way."

' _Introverted, thoughtful, overly idealistic; not very Turian at all,_ ' thought Susan. ' _Here's a commanding officer I'll need to protect and manage._ '

"I can hear you thinking from here, Rizzi," said General Vakarian. "Spit it out, if you have opinion, I want to know it."

"I only know a little of Turian society, so I can't speak about your race or any others, but with Humans I think it's about power, Sir," said Susan. "People who have stressful lives seek to escape into fantasies, and those with particularly difficult lives seek power. By forcing your own icons or heroes into roles that fulfill your personal fantasies, you can claim ownership of them, or so I would imagine."

"Or it could be that people are just degenerates, or have dirty minds," said the General.

Susan smiled. "Dirty minds are a given. I have one myself."

If Turians had eyebrows, Susan suspected that Vakarian's would've been raised. Instead he sat back in his chair and slowly shook his head, and perhaps tried to suppress laughter.

"You are a different kind of officer, Rizzi. You'll fit in perfect on this ship. That being said, let's get down to business," said the General.

He leaned forward. "We leave inside of a week at the latest. Your squad will be here in a few hours. Urdnot Wrex will arrive in two days. He'll be staying on the crew deck, right near the galley. I'm making sure to stock up on all his most hated foods. If he asks, tell him that's all we had left."

"Why?" asked Susan.

The General's eyes flickered and he cocked his head in a curious way. "I don't want to show up on Tuchanka with a fat Krogan clan leader. When you get a chance, read the Tuchanka projections intelligence has put together. If it's anywhere near as bad as the reports say when we get there, the Krogan will be more likely to eat Wrex than place him back on the throne."

' _At least he has a sense of humor, and a realistic expectation of what we'll be facing. But is he willing to make the hard call, and what isn't he telling me?_ ' wondered Susan.

Susan remembered something that Hackett had explained in his short briefing. The Admiral had emphasized her role in supporting her Turian CO, and making sure he lived up to unspoken orders. At the time, Susan thought Hackett was speaking in general metaphors, but it now occurred to her what those orders might be and why she was given this mission. Garrus Vakarian had initiated the conversation by talking about the fragile state of the relays, thus he had spelled it out to her without ever speaking it aloud—unspoken orders.

The mission wasn't necessarily about getting Wrex back to Tuchanka in time, it was about reaching Tuchanka before the Krogan had their Mass Relay repaired. If Wrex was unable to assume control and the Krogan proved themselves a threat, then Vakarian would be forced to blow the relay. The Normandy was the only ship capable of bypassing whatever defenses were in place. A strike on the vulnerable relay would destroy the system and end the Krogan threat permanently.

The General watched her carefully. "What is that human expression, oh yes, a penny for your thoughts?"

Susan saluted. "I was taking in your orders, Sir, _all of them_. You can count on me."

Vakarian nodded. "Hackett chose the right officer for the job, then."

The Turian tried to hide it, but Susan picked up on his disappointment. He was already conflicted. This was cause for concern. From everything she'd learned about Urdnot Wrex, the old Krogan didn't miss much. If the clan leader read his old friend Garrus properly and figured out the real plan, well, she'd have another situation to deal with.

"Sir, if I may?" asked Susan. "I have preparations to make."

General Vakarian dismissed her begrudgingly, his expression was one of contemplation and sadness. Susan realized that the Turian was expecting something else from his new XO that she could not provide.

' _He was looking for a moral compass, he was looking for Shepard,'_ she thought.

That was not who Susan Rizzi was, and it never would be. As she rode the elevator down, she set aside her encounter with Garrus and wondered if the ship's pilot, this Joker, had a copy of the Emanuella vid on hand.

* * *

 **Up Next** : Open Relay - _Miranda Lawson seeks absolution, but is Jack the person to grant it?_


	16. Open Relay

_There is an old saying "Opposites attract", but it's not really opposition that draws us in. I think it's a process of evolution. We seek mates who are strong in the areas we are weak in, and weak in the areas we are strong. At the same time there must be a foundation of similarities to have a relationship. Jack is skeptical of everything, whereas Miranda is often blinded to the truth, Jack is pure fury and brute force as a biotic, whereas Miranda is tactical and precise, but they were both experiments; different means but the same ends. They were created to be the slaves to the the whims of others, both crafted for a purpose, manipulated as children, and that is the very unique common ground they share. Despite all the sparring and apparent differences, they see themselves in each other, and that is the ultimate attraction: "Someone who is like me, who understands me." If you lack understanding in a relationship you'll never be able to communicate, and that makes love a difficult proposition._

* * *

 _"Every action needs to be prompted by a motive._ _"_

Leonardo da Vinci

October 17th, 2187

 **Subject Zero**

* * *

Jack hustled out of the classroom before the students could hit her up with more questions. She couldn't fucking believe her life, not really. Schoolteacher? How in the hell did she wind up a schoolteacher? There wasn't a grain of dust in her most ironic dreams that could have foretold her current situation. The worst part of it? She wasn't sure whether to ride it out or cut and run.

She'd lucked into the Grissom Academy gig. The Alliance was desperate at the time, the Reapers were coming and they needed biotics on the battlefield. They needed instructors that could prepare them for the hard realities of butchery, and above all they needed instructors with experience fighting Reaper troops.

Now it was all a wash. There was no war to get ready for, no kids to protect, and Jump Zero was certainly no Grissom Academy. All Jack's old students had moved on to various assignments, and she'd taken the new position in hopes that she could catch lightning in a bottle one more time. However, the job hadn't turned out as planned. Instead of training talented biotics for warfare against an epic enemy, she was teaching biotic teenagers of varying ability the minimum basics.

Many of her new students had been traumatized by the war, over half were orphans, and the vast majority were low to average in talent. There wasn't one in the whole bunch that could make a barrier strong enough to stop a Vorcha from pissing on their shoes. Jack had to face facts. What she had become, was a glorified babysitter.

The worst part of it wasn't the talentless kids, it was Jump Zero itself. The place was one big, giant fucking sardine can packed with aliens and humans. Its proximity to the Charon Relay made it the perfect stopover for work crews, and some smartass Alliance bureaucrat had caught on to this little detail. They'd sectioned off a whole part of the station formerly reserved for research and turned it into a strip of crappy bars. The swill they served was total shit, but it was enough to get you drunk and that's all anyone cared about in this place.

In retrospect it wasn't really the best spot for the Alliance to set up their temporary biotic academy. In fact, it was a totally fucking stupid idea, but somewhere along the line some asshat riding a desk must have read a report that there was once a biotic training program here, and so he or she made the assumption that this was a grand spot for trainees. If Jack was ever able to track down the asshole who made that call, she'd pulverize him, or her.

She was ready to climb the walls. What she really needed was to get shitfaced, or at least get laid, but Jump Zero was like a small town. Everyone who lived here knew everyone else. Even if there was an eligible candidate for her antics, Kahlee would be crawling up in her shit within days about setting a good example. In any case, Sanders had no antics to worry about.

The few times Jack went out bar prowling, looking for fresh meat amongst the relay workers, she'd run into a group of rough looking Turians or Batarians coming through, which reminded her of prison, which led to anger, and eventually a night alone staring at the mirror and wondering how much longer she could go on without killing someone.

Since killing was illegal in the absence of war, Jack found herself at her usual spot at the shitty bar, listening to shitty Asari trance music, drinking her usual shot of shitty tequila, which she chased down with the shittiest of all beers in the galaxy. Essentially, her life was pretty shitty. Someone sat down next to her and she didn't even look up, not until her nostrils were filled with a familiar scent

"What the hell are you doing here?" asked Jack.

Miranda Lawson let a faint smile crease her lips. "Hello to you too, Jack. I was passing through, on the way to check out a lead near the relay, but I was shooed away by the fleet. They must be running important tests."

"Great, maybe tonight is the night they blow us all to hell," said Jack.

Miranda shrugged. Something was different about the cheerleader. There were dark circles under her eyes, she held her left arm awkwardly, and she slumped a little in her chair. She wasn't wearing her normal getup either. It was all plain Alliance style off-duty clothes, drab and vaguely blue. She seemed lost, like a sad puppy. Jack also noticed that there wasn't even a hint of the cocksure bitchy expression she normally wore. Instead, the woman exuded doubt.

Jack was intrigued, she pressed a little. "So I hear you're some big hero now, cleared of all charges by the Council. Saved our asses and all of that. Sorry to hear about Taylor, I kind of liked him, aside from all the Cerberus shit he was into."

Instead of pulling her normal deflect and defy routine, Miranda enacted the verbal equivalent of rolling into a fetal position. "I got him killed," she said. "It's all my fault. All I needed was a shuttle pilot, could have taken anyone but I wanted someone I had ties to, so I guilted him into going. I don't know why I did it. His wife, Brinn, she hates me. I can't blame her. I took away her husband, the father of her child."

"Fuck, Lawson—you show up, dump this shit on me, and you actually sound sorry about it too. And here I was thinking my life had been crap lately," said Jack.

"Crap? I heard through the Alliance grapevine that you were teaching biotic students again," said Miranda.

"It's a little different this time," said Jack. "Hey, wait a minute. How did you know what I was doing? You checking up on me?"

Jack was conflicted. On the one hand, the idea pissed her off, on the other, it was nice to have someone who actually gave a whisper of a shit, who thought about it enough to take the time to look her up. Even if it was the snobby ex-Cerberus bitch. Nobody else from the Normandy crew had, not Garrus, not Tali, not even Zaeed.

Miranda gave a half shrug. "I wanted to talk to you, eventually. I thought now would be as good a time as any."

"Shit," said Jack. "What do you want from me? Ok, I get it, I kissed you. You saved my kids, and we'd just beaten the Reapers, the fucking Reapers, and so I kissed you. It was my way of saying, hey! Anything can happen, you know. Don't take it to heart, Lawson, or assume I like you, just because of what Shepard said. Got it?"

Jack fully expected the fight would be on, but the cheerleader slumped in her seat, looking more defeated than ever before. Shit was really eating at her, but why did she bring it here? What the hell was she thinking?

"Understood," said Miranda. "Listen, Jack, I know you may not believe me, and I know you probably don't want to hear this, but I need to say some things. I feel I owe it to Shepard, and I owe it to you. There's another reason I'm here, and it's important.

I've been hunting Cerberus for the Alliance. They're still out there, still operating in secret. They broke a high ranking member out of detention, executed two admirals, and kidnapped several scientists and operatives who were attached to them at one time or another. They had files on you, and one of the operatives I took down had orders to capture you. I just wanted to make sure you're safe."

Jack shook her head in disbelief. "Fuck, are you shitting me? Have they come after you?"

"They have," said Miranda. "Twice; the second time it almost worked. I'm not in the best shape, my arm and… I got lucky. A Spectre saved my life, a Salarian, a friend of Shepard's."

"Fucking hell, Lawson, why are you doing this? You don't owe me shit," said Jack.

"I do," said Miranda. "I worked for them, I championed their cause, and I'm responsible in a way. Because of me, the Illusive Man had resources he shouldn't have had. He's the reason Shepard isn't with us anymore. He's the reason I had to hide my sister, which is why my sister is stuck out on the other side of the galaxy and I have no way to protect her. I don't even know if I'll ever see her again."

Miranda turned away, mumbled something about being tired, but Jack could tell she was struggling to fight back tears. Shit was getting real, and Jack began to understand where the cheerleader was coming from. Without Shepard, without her sister, Miranda had no one. Taylor's death had shattered Lawson's self-confidence. It was as obvious as it was unexpected, even alarming. On the other hand, Jack couldn't help but derive some pleasure from it. She decided to play an angle, a crazy ass angle that she'd probably regret tomorrow, but it felt good to be a little reckless for a change.

"I'm sorry," said Jack. "I'm a loner by nature, but I admit, I miss my kids. It's hard letting go."

"You're a loner because Cerberus made you that way," said Miranda. "All the things they did to you, and you still managed to make a difference in the world, to do some good. You have people that will always remember you. Those kids, you kept them alive. Nobody else could've done it. I couldn't have. I couldn't even keep an old friend alive. I'm just… I wanted to apologize to you, for trying to justify myself, trying to justify Cerberus. Now that I've seen what they really are, how wrong I was… I'm sorry. I needed to say that to you."

Jack had no reply. In fact, she had trouble processing what Miranda had just told her. It was more than an apology, it felt like an admission from the heart, and it was genuine. Jack didn't quite know how to acknowledge it, other than to stick with the plan.

She turned to the bartender. "Hey, Ken, breaking the rules tonight, get me another shot and a beer, and two shots and a beer for my friend here, she needs to catch up."

Miranda looked unsure. "It's not really necessary, you…"

"Shut up, Miranda," said Jack. "Just drink with me, you at least earned that. Took guts to suck it up and come out and say it. Besides, I still owe you for stepping up back there in London. You've done me a few solids now. I'm starting to not hate you."

"Uh oh," said Miranda. "Maybe if you get me drunk enough I'll say something to make you hate me again."

The bartender poured the shots. Jack raised her glass. "I'll drink to that!"

After putting down her shot, Miranda grimaced and stuck her tongue out. "God, that's horrible."

"Oh yea," said Jack. "A few of us have theorized that it's military grade cleaning methanol with tequila flavoring. It kicks like a mule. I haven't had more than one of these at a time, so this will be interesting."

Jack downed her second shot of the night and chased it with her beer to soothe the burn. Miranda went straight for her second shot, put it away and gulped down her beer, then sat there grinning like a Cheshire cat. So the cheerleader wanted to play?

Jack held up two fingers for Ken. "Hit us again," she said.

Ken shook his head. "That's a lot of alcohol, you sure Jack?"

Jack nodded. Ken poured the shots and set out two more beers. They toasted again, this time Jack mumbled something about the shitty old days. Miranda developed a big, goofy smile shortly after she finished the next beer. It looked good on her. In fact, everything about her looked good. Jack realized where this was headed and she was ok with it, in fact, she was already looking forward to it. They fell into some awkward idle chatter. Something about the relay and when it might open up. However, it didn't take long to exhaust the small talk.

Miranda held her liquor well, but her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were watery. Jack picked up on it right away. The cheerleader got emotional when she got drunk. This was too fucking perfect.

"Where are you staying?" asked Jack.

"I have a bunk in the Alliance contractor barracks," said Miranda.

"You've got to be kidding," said Jack. "That part of the station is cold as hell. I wouldn't let a varren sleep there."

Miranda tried to take a drink from her empty beer. She was nervous. Jack thought about giving her a lifeline, but decided it was a lot more fun to watch her flounder instead. Miranda did just that, but it was only a little while before she regained her composure.

Lawson ran her finger around the lip of the bottle seductively. "Any suggestions on how to keep warm?"

Miranda had taken the bait, but Jack didn't fix the hook yet, she let it play out a little. She wanted the cheerleader to swallow the whole thing down, so when Jack finally reeled her in she'd have Miranda by the guts.

"You'll have to figure it out for yourself," said Jack. "I have a place down at the end of Eta Row, that's where I'll be sleeping for the night."

Jack stood up with a bit of a wobble. "I'll pay the tab tomorrow, Ken," she said.

She took off for her place without a word, never even looked back in the cheerleader's direction. Jack played it cold as fucking ice, walked straight home, popped the door, left it open, and sat on the edge of bed. She commanded the lights to dim. Several minutes passed. The line was still slack. She wasn't worried at all. It was still early in the evening, and Lawson had come here on purpose. She wasn't going to leave until she had her answers.

The footsteps, soft as an Asari's, were noticeable. They were at the door, then inside the door. Jack didn't look at the doorway, not even after she heard it close. She waited until Miranda stepped into her field of view before she spoke.

Jack glared at her. "You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?"

Miranda was flush. She appeared more vulnerable than ever, which elicited only boldness from Jack. She was like a shark with blood in the water. She took a bite.

"So all that apology bullshit, there was a motive behind it. Not surprised, it makes sense; it always comes down to what someone wants to take from you, or what you can take from someone else," said Jack.

"Do you want me to leave?" asked Miranda.

Jack didn't acknowledge the question. Instead, she gave an order. "Take off your clothes. I want to see how perfect you really are."

Miranda complied, slowly, deliberately, fumbling with her left hand. Pants first, jacket, shoes, socks, and then the shirt until she stood in only her underwear—black lace, just like Jack always imagined. In the dim light she could make out the faded black and purple bruises that still traced Miranda's arm, the tracks of fresh scars. The arm itself was partially limp. Miranda rotated so that her right arm was facing Jack.

"All of it," insisted Jack.

Lawson obeyed reluctantly. When she stood nude, she shivered. It was all just as Jack wanted it. Someone else was vulnerable for a change, and she was the one in charge. The first time since… it had to be this way. The dim light of the apartment bathed Miranda's skin in becoming tones, fluttering between cornsilk and cream. Jack had never seen anything so beautiful, man, woman, or alien.

Standing up, she approached, letting her hands fall gently on Miranda's shoulders. Jack turned her back around so she could see both arms. She let her right hand trace Miranda's left bicep gently, down, down, down, until it reached the crook of her arm. For some reason Jack was drawn to the damaged limb.

"Not so perfect anymore," Miranda mumbled.

"Improved," said Jack. "Now you're real, now you've earned this."

Jack kissed Lawson for the second time. It was appreciably better than the first, or else it was the tequila talking. Miranda's lips were smaller than her own, which made it easy to devour them. Jack began to shed her own clothes as they explored each other in the dim lights and the afterglow of the liquor. By the time they made it to the bed, it was strictly skin on skin.

It was an uneven dance of apprehension and enthusiasm, softness and violence. It was supposed to be about sex, Jack taking what she wanted, but she found herself giving away more than she planned and enjoying it despite her fears. Words were exchanged, along with saliva, sweat, and electrical currents. Biotic pulses provoked gasping breaths, flashes of light finding the rhythm of racing hearts, and knocking askew the room's insignificant mementos.

The music went on, the night went on, and on, and on. Pauses accepted only for rest, water, and release. Jack was no longer the master of the course she had set. It all got away from her before long. It wasn't supposed to be this good, feel this right. The cheerleader was libertine in her tastes and desires, managing to back Jack into a few uncomfortable corners. She chose acquiescence rather than resistance, though the points of submission were prompted by her own ego.

If the sex was any indicator of prowess, the street fight that Jack had so long desired wouldn't have gone quite as planned. It would've been dirtier than she anticipated. It would've consisted of heavy blows, suffocating holds, and penetrating lunges. Miranda had a counter for every move, an assault for every defense, and a scratch for every bite. The war began anew at the shocking climax of each battle. The fields of engagement constantly changed—the bed, the floor, the shower, the table, and the bed again. In the end, as the night ebbed away with the last vestiges of their strength, the only conclusion was armistice, and finally, blissful sleep.

Jack and Miranda awoke in the early morning to the blaring of arms. The stampede of feet in the corridors put them on alert. Shouts and screams erupted. Jack flopped out of bed, half in a daze. Unmindful of her nakedness, she cracked the door and craned her neck out into the hall.

Her throat dry, she could only manage a croak. "What the fuck is going on?"

A young man, himself barely clothed, roared with excitement. "They fixed it! The relay is open!"

Jack shut the door, and turned back into her apartment, bewildered. She stared at the woman stretching on the bed, above the sheets, in all her glory.

"What's happening?" Miranda mumbled.

"You're not going to believe this," said Jack. "The Mass Relay is open."

Miranda rolled over and turned her face to Jack. Her expression was difficult to describe, a half-sleepy grin, the eyelids heavy, unable to open, like a cat succumbing to a full saucer of milk. She was spread out salaciously on the bed like some angel that had been defiled, and yet reveled in the perversion of it. God, she was so fucking perfect this way.

Miranda was amused. "Damn, are we that good?"

"Even better," said Jack.

* * *

 **Up Next:** A little flashback in time, + we catch up with Legion and Shepard in "Dead Shepard".


	17. Dead Shepard

_The date isn't wrong... taking a step back in time to get a better understanding of this Shepard, and also addressed some things that drove me crazy at the beginning of Mass Effect 2. Since this Shepard is biotic, I wanted to deal with the upgrade from L3 implants to L5's. ;) In addition, I've always felt there was some background "missing" from Colonial Shepard. What happened to a traumatized 16 year old girl who watched her family and friends butchered and only barely escaped Batarian Slavers? What happened for the next two years to shape her into the hero that she became? I wanted to deepen the story with Kaidan a bit. In fact, I plan to explain the whole Omega Incident in a short story prequel that will come out to about 10k words. All of it is from Kaidan's perspective. I'll try to fit that in soon. Also, can anyone figure out the implant code? :)  
_

* * *

" _Only after disaster can we be resurrected."_ _  
_Chuck Palahniuk

February 7th, 2185

 **Josslyn E. Shepard**

* * *

Shepard could hear that insufferable woman's voice again, from far away. It was grating on her last nerve, such a bitchy voice. If it kept blathering on, it'd ruin Joss for the Australian accent forever, and that was a damn shame because it was one of her favorite accents; right up there with French. Joss had always loved the French accent best, because it reminded her of trips home to Earth and staying with her grandparents when she was a child. Foggy mornings in Brest, eating grandmother's Tarte de Pommes a la Normande.

She'd considered it a sign of good luck when she received orders to report to an Alliance frigate named Normandy where she was to serve as Captain Anderson's XO. It was an even better omen that an old friend, Kaidan Alenko, was assigned to the same ship.

She'd met Kaidan during her two year stint at Annapolis. He was training to be a combat medic, she was getting a jump on her credentials before she mustered into the Alliance. It was Kaidan who helped her adjust to her first biotic implants, who went along with her ill-advised scheme on Omega, and who was rewarded for his loyalty with disciplinary action by the Alliance.

It was the reason Shepard had passed him by in rank, but he was never bitter about it. Kaidan loved her, would have done anything for her, but she could never love him back. She gave him only her friendship, and he lived with it for far too long without complaint. It may have been selfish of her, but Kaidan was the only thing Josslyn had that approximated family.

They argued constantly, like brother and sister. They were competitive as hell, even over nonsensical things such as whose mother or grandmother made the best pastries. Alenko always insisted that his mother made the best apple pie and apple tarts in the world. That one really rankled Shepard. A wage was made, the invitation to Kaidan's parent's house on Vancouver Island was extended, but Shepard always put it off.

Their joint assignment to the Normandy started well enough. They knew that Anderson had done them a solid by putting them together, so they played down their previous relationship, kept each other at a distance, but then came Eden Prime and it all went to hell. From the moment Josslyn Shepard first set eyes on Ashley Williams, she was done for. Ashley was everything she ever wanted, except for the fact that she didn't feel the same way about Shepard.

A smart officer would have kept her mouth shut about it, but not Shepard. She felt obliged to vent her heartbreak to Kaidan—no consideration for how it must have made him feel, but it was a difficult time, and she needed a sounding board. There were alien images in her head from the beacon on Eden Prime, new responsibilities as a Council Spectre, and a command that she felt guilty about.

They'd taken the Normandy right out from under Anderson and handed it to her. The Captain was being pushed aside in favor of the officer he'd devoted so much of his time and energy on. On Omega, in 2171, Anderson had stopped a raging teenage girl and her fool of an accomplice, one Kaidan Alenko, from an act of vengeance that might have started a war with the Batarian Hegemony. It must have seemed a strange twist of fate to him that the ship of his dreams was ripped away and awarded to that same kid.

If Josslyn Shepard had one glaring fault, it was that she always found it difficult to control her feelings. She defied superior officers far too often, put herself in risky situations, and broke every fraternization regulation in the books. Worse, she never seemed to learn. Her performance always outstripped her deficiencies. The little mistakes were always glossed over by the medals and the accolades she brought to the table.

Then came Dr. Liara T'Soni, a lovely Asari who was as hot on Shepard as Williams was cold. Kaidan insisted that Josslyn keep her distance from Liara for the sake of the mission and her career. He reasoned that Shepard was throwing herself into a new relationship just because she wanted to erase the rejection she felt. She didn't listen. Kaidan became obstinate, butted into the relationship and influenced Liara into backing away, which made Shepard angry as hell. Words were exchanged and the friendship was suspended.

" _You're my Commander, not my friend._ _Only come to my station for_ p _rofessional matters,"_ Alenko had told her just days before Virmire.

He was hurting, she could tell. It'd finally sunk in that she was never going to be his. Shepard didn't know what to do about it, but there were more pressing matters. She was chasing a mad Turian Spectre across the galaxy without much success. She'd already wasted enough of her time with personal drama. Unfortunately, there was no way to make it right. Kaidan Alenko died on Virmire. Her fault, her decision—she was still learning to live with it.

He'd left a message for her on a private com channel. " _Don't blame yourself for this, you made the right call, and just know we're good, still best friends. I'd already forgiven you. I get it now, it just wasn't meant to be, but I'll always love you, Joss, forever..._ "

And then Kaidan was gone for good. Her best friend erased from existence in a nuclear inferno. There wasn't a body to take home to his parents, not even ashes. Shepard had always let herself get too close to her crew. Hackett warned her about it more than once, but Anderson never seemed to mind. He was cut from the same cloth. When your team is your family, you fight harder for them. Ok, maybe she was paraphrasing liberally, but that's the way she'd always run her ship. It worked, but it often came with a heavy price tag, one paid with pieces of her soul.

When they returned from Virmire, Udina and the Council ignored everything Shepard had learned. They simply refused to believe, put their head in the sand and pretended the threat wasn't real, and they grounded her and took away the Normandy. They took away her ship.

' _My ship,_ ' thought Shepard.

The thought reminded her that things were out of place. There was that damn voice blaring again. The woman was getting desperate.

"Shepard, wake up, I need you to wake up."

Where was she? Oh yes, now she remembered. Searching for Geth, of all the stupid things that Council could have put her on. The Geth were not the issue, the Reapers were the issue, but now the Council, even the Alliance were starting to back away from it, she could tell. All the big shots had gotten what they wanted. There was money to be made, power to grab for, and positions to fill.

Stupid politicians, the end of their species was coming and they couldn't see it because they were still jockeying for position, and Shepard wouldn't shut up about what was really headed their way. She was quickly becoming a liability, she'd gone from galactic hero to Chicken Little inside of a few weeks. They wanted her on the sidelines, so they sent her off to patrol for Geth. She shouldn't have gone along with it, but they let her keep her crew, even assigned Dr. T'Soni to the Normandy for the long haul to appease her. It worked too; like a charm. Somebody out there knew her soft spots, dammit.

Things were going to plan, but then there was the alert, the Normandy was under attack—unknown ship. That's where it all went wrong. She grabbed her N7 test armor out of the emergency locker because her normal gear was out of reach. It was stupid to be in a combat situation working with an unfamiliar TLV breather, and then everything went to hell. Whatever hit them knew right where they were. How? Not even Sovereign could find them in stealth. Shepard reached Joker, got him to the escape pod just in time, but she was ejected into space.

She'd been hit hard. Several bones were shattered, and her survival suit was compromised. If she'd only had her colossus armor on, she'd have been fine. It handled breaches like a champ, and the armored protection was second to none. Her last memory was being adrift in space, the thermal coils that kept the PFC warm and breathable failed. Icy fluid filled her lungs. The pressure seals malfunctioned, forcing all the fluid into her helmet, and then exposure to the vacuum of space froze the PFC in seconds, encasing her head in oxygenated ice; there was a joke about the ultimate brain freeze in there somewhere, except she wasn't laughing because she was dead.

' _I died, I should be dead,_ ' thought Shepard. ' _You were, you were dead, and that's what the woman was talking about when you regained consciousness for a moment. What did she say about Project Lazarus?'_ '

That's who was talking to her now, the bitchy woman with the Australian accent. There was a man too, the first time she woke up, but she couldn't hear him anymore. Clearly, she'd lost track of time.

"Wake up, Commander," said the woman.

Shepard tried to fight her way out of the chasm she was in. The voice sounded serious.

"Shepard, do you hear me? Get out of bed now—this facility is under attack," said the woman.

Shepard's eyes blinked, then opened in the bright lights. She felt—odd, different. She rubbed her jaw, felt rough patches of skin. Ran a hand across her scalp, and felt a short, thick matting of hair. Her head had been shaved but at least it was growing back. It hadn't been this short since she'd finished up boot camp at age eighteen. She'd have to cry about it later.

She sat up. The bedsheet fell away. She had no clothes, and her body was covered in luminescent scars. She lifted her arm and pulled out the intravenous feed. She also noted various adhesive monitoring pads and began to peel them away. Aside from the scars, everything seemed to be in place, except… was it her imagination, or had her breasts grown a size larger? She looked around the room. Her neck was stiff and for some reason it felt thicker, stronger.

"Shepard, are you there?" asked the woman. "I need you to get moving. This facility is under attack."

"Ok, ok," said Shepard. "I'm up, what's the sitrep, where am I. How did I get here?"

"We don't have time for that," said the woman. "I need you to go over to the medical console across from your bed and activate your biotic implants. We need to bring them online. You'll be weak at first, and you'll have to relearn all you knew, but you'll make due."

"In the meantime, how about some armor, weapons, a pistol, some clothes, anything, and by the way, who are you?" asked Shepard.

The woman sounded exasperated. "I'm Miranda, and I'm trying to save your life, that's all you need to know. As for clothes, weapons, armor—you're in the medical wing in a recovery room, which is nowhere near the armory. This is a bad situation Shepard, this isn't a combat tutorial in some stupid simulation. I'm not testing you, I'm trying to keep you alive. You'll have to scrounge up what you can find along the way. Look for dead security guards and take what they have, now move, get over to the console."

An explosion and a scream echoed down the hallway outside of the door. A metal grinding sound alerted Shepard that something was definitely amiss.

Shepard sighed. "Ok, tell me what to do."

"Grab a scalpel from the tray," said Miranda.

Shepard located one easy enough. "Great… you're asking me to cut myself up. This isn't the best way to start our relationship, you know?"

"Stop wasting time. Do you see the console?" asked Miranda.

"Yea, yea," said Shepard.

"Listen carefully," said Miranda. "On the left side of the panel, there should be an output feed. In the middle drawer there's a spool of fiber optic cable. On your left hand, just about a half inch below your middle metacarpophalangeal joint, there's an input feed. That's the main input for your new L5x implants. You can feel it if you run your finger over it. Cut open your hand at that location and find the input. Run the optic cable from the console output to your main biotic input, it should boot up automatically, then ask for a security code. We're lucky I kept the codes in my head and not in the system, otherwise our intruder would have everything by now. I'll give it to you as soon as you're ready."

She had started the procedure as soon as Miranda started explaining it. "I thought you said this wasn't a tutorial?" joked Shepard.

"Funny, Shepard," said Miranda. "Let me know as soon as it asks for the code."

"Ok," said Shepard. "It's asking."

Miranda was taken aback. "That was awfully fast, Commander."

"What can I say? I'm good under pressure. I'm also bleeding all over the floor, so give me the code," said Shepard.

"Very well," said Miranda. "L5XN7JES04112154ML001PLIBISL2."

"Inputting," said Shepard.

Suddenly, she felt a surge of power go through her body. Felt great, stronger than ever before. The hairs on her arms stood up. Lights started blinking in the air around her, or rather in her field of vision. Soon an HUI was being projected straight into her retinas. Shepard was familiar with most of the information, though some of it would require further study.

Shepard located a small container across the room and before she could clench her fist to pull it with her biotics, it flew off the shelf and crashed into the ceiling.

"Is your HUI online?" asked Miranda.

"Yea," said Shepard. "But something is off. I tried to pull and it…"

"You're biotics are controlled by VI's now," said Miranda. "You don't have to make complex gestures anymore, Shepard. Just point, think about your action, and the VI will take it from there. You should have immediate access to moderate pull and throw fields, warp, and a very limited singularity. There's also a wicked little trick we learned from an Asari, and other features that come with your cybernetic implants—a kinetic barrier drain and a hacking module that will work in conjunction with an omni-tool, which you don't have at the moment. I put a governor on your implants. I'm not sure what loads you can take yet, so it's better to err on the side of caution."

An explosion outside the door alerted Shepard to a hostile presence. This didn't sound good.

"All personnel have stopped reporting in," said Miranda. "The guards who were assigned to your section appear to be dead. The security door to the med lab wing has been hacked and the enemy has control of all the security mechs, they're on their way. Get out of there, Commander, now!"

Shepard pulled the feed out of her hand, located a bandage, and taped it on hastily. Sprinting to the door, she felt her bare fleet slapping on the tiles and whispered a silent thank you that there was no broken glass. She opened the doors that led into the foyer and glanced around. It would have been quite convenient to find a pistol or weapon, but no such luck.

"It looks like security set up a barricade outside med lab," said Miranda. "Be careful, Shepard, there's movement out there."

As soon as she was through the foyer doorway she heard a clacking of metal on metal, the hum of servos. She ducked under the barricade as the security mech opened fire on her.

Miranda shouted, "Lookout!"

Shepard groaned. "I got this, you don't have to nursemaid me."

She grabbed the mech with a biotic pull. It floated up in the air, firing wildly in all directions. Shepard struck it with a warp field, shattering it into fragments.

"Bang!" said Shepard.

Miranda was still barking orders. "Get moving, we need to get you to the shuttles."

Shepard sprinted into action again. There was blood everywhere, but no dead security in sight. No weapons, no armor, no damn clothes, and now… broken glass. The small automatic weapon that the mech was using had been destroyed by her warp field.

"Shit!" said Shepard.

"Don't worry about the broken glass," said Miranda. "Your feet have been upgraded. Your soles have a synthetic overlay that's quite resilient to punctures, and the muscles on the bottom of your feet are woven with metallic fibers. Our work is far superior to the frivolous muscle injections the Alliance gave you."

"What the hell are you talking about? What did you do to me?" asked Shepard.

"There will be time to explain later, right now you need to find cover. There are more mechs heading your way. Get your barrier up, Shepard," said Miranda.

Shepard focused her thoughts on her defensive barrier, a biotic shell formed around her in a radius, strong enough to repel kinetic, biotic, and energy attacks. The door ahead opened and a mech opened fire. She slammed it into the wall just as another door to the far left opened, spilling three more mechs into the room. Her barrier was immediately tested and began to evaporate under heavy figure, she dove for cover as the mechs poured accelerated micro-pellets at her. The bulletproof glass on the room dividers held, barely.

She tossed a singularity in their midst, chuckling to herself until said singularity formed. It only managed to grab one of the mechs. In a panic she popped it with a warp field, which detonated the singularity in a brilliant display. The subsequent explosion destroyed two of the mechs, and left the third crawling on the floor without legs. Shepard strolled up to the struggling mech and smashed it to pieces with one of its own legs. She retrieved its pistol, puzzling over the configuration. She couldn't find the vent release.

"The pistol you're holding works on a thermal clip system rather than a conductive inert gas purge," said Miranda. "Most clips are interchangeable, so you might want to grab a few extras if you can salvage them."

"And where would I put them?" asked Shepard. "I don't have a utility belt, or pockets, and if you tell me to…"

Miranda laughed over the com. "No, I don't think that would be a dignified way to carry a thermal clip."

"Right, and what is up with my singularity, did you really have to govern it that much?" grumbled Shepard.

"Listen, your biotics are designed differently now," said Miranda. "Your singularities will be much less powerful but they detonate to make up for it. As you can tell, it's quite useful."

Josslyn Shepard wasn't having any of it. "You must be joking," she said. "It didn't make up for it at all. That was weak and it almost got me killed. I used to be able to eat a whole room of hostiles with a singularity from my L3 implants. Creating an extremely destructive singularity was the primary focus of my training."

"Unfortunately, we have moved away from large singularities as a feasible battlefield tactic," said Miranda. "It's simply too dangerous. One operative lost control of a singularity. It ate a building, and then destroyed several city blocks before an emergency crew was able to dispel it with a Mass Polarity weapon. Ever since that incident the Council has ordered all L3 biotic implants phased out or tuned down."

"When exactly did this happen?" asked Shepard. "Just how long was I unconscious, and how did you locate and save me? I thought I was dead for sure."

Miranda was stalling. "It's complicated Shepard. I'll explain as soon as you get to the shuttles. Now get a move on it."

Shepard passed through the next door, barrier up, pistol low ready. She reached a hallway with armored clear walls. Just on the other side of one divider, she saw two security guards facing down a heavy mech. Shepard didn't recognize the configuration of the mech at all, and she knew the ins and outs of every security mech in Citadel space. The mech easily slaughtered the security guards. Its large rounds thudded on the divider, creating cracks. Fortunately, its sensors were not advanced enough to see through the divider.

Still, Shepard moved away quickly. Running around a battle zone buck naked wasn't any different than running around in street clothes. She'd been in plenty of firefights in uniform, operational blacks, or even street clothes, in fact she excelled at it in combat training because she'd always managed exceptionally strong barriers. Still, Shepard wished she could find something, anything. Even a lab coat would make all the difference in the world. It was a foolish notion of course, all psychological. If her barrier failed and a round got through she'd be dead either way. What she actually needed was armor, but that was a pipe dream at the moment.

She made her way up the hall. Much to her initial delight, she noticed three bodies. It was a morbid, damn thought, wishing for bodies so she could confiscate their clothes. Unfortunately, the corpses had been shot up badly. They were wearing tight fighting uniforms with yellow insignias, uniforms saturated in blood, and adored with chunks of flesh, pieces of organs, and intestines. Shepard passed by the corpses without a second thought.

She opened the next door and stepped through just as Miranda spoke up again to warn her of another squad of mechs. Fortunately she found another security guard, this one had a grenade launcher. She used it to immediately dispatch the squad of mechs, then took the elevator down. Dashing through the hall, she narrowly avoided a geyser of flames from a gas rupture.

Miranda tried to speak to her but the com spat static before dying out completely. Shepard was on her own from here on out, but then someone else began to call out to her, another voice from another place. Shepard realized that this was all a memory as well. It was all so perfect, the memory, as if it just happened—waking up from two years of death. Miranda was the Cerberus Operative that had brought her back from the dead. It was hard to believe it had actually happened this way. The world began to turn to a haze.

She knew what was going to happen next. She'd wander the corridors until she found a pair of work overalls in a storage closet. Eventually she'd fight her way to Jacob Taylor, who'd introduce himself and let slip that she'd been dead for two years, which he then followed up with an admission that he was with Cerberus. Then there was Wilson, the double agent who'd set the whole mess in motion, and finally, Miranda, who executed Wilson straightaway. She distrusted Miranda from the start, but eventually…

" _Shepard Commander, are you there?"_

" _Yes, Legion, and no, I don't want you to delete that memory."_

" _Inquiry, was it not an unpleasant experience?"_

" _It was, but it was also the day I met Jacob, a friend, and Miranda, who is so much more to me. Not all bad memories should be removed, Legion, sometimes the bad memories define who we are just as much as the good ones."_

" _We do not comprehend, but we will comply. We would also note that the memory bears similarities to current events."_

" _How is that?"_

" _We have tested the external parameters of our confinement and determined that we are in jeopardy. Shepard Commander's physical unit is badly damaged, is undergoing a metamorphosis, and being transported to an unknown destination on a Cerberus vessel. It is probable that they seek the information we downloaded from the Reapers."_

" _Bastards, of course they do. They must have gotten to me before the Alliance. Is there anything we can do, Legion? Oh, and what do you mean by metamorphosis?"_

" _Your physical form is in transition, trying to complete a biosynthetic fusion, however, there is a form of resistance to the process that has been externally induced, perhaps by our captors, though we believe they are unable to access our central processor at this time. We have utilized your past era cybernetic implants to maximum our encryption. We have also put in a failsafe that will terminate us, should they break our encryption. This is as you wished, correct?"_

" _Yes, Legion, thank you. It is better for us to die than allow Cerberus to know what we know. By the way, what do we know?"_

" _Shepard Commander, it is difficult to explain with our limited processing ability. We need more space, but our new capabilities are quite profound. This vessel could become a perfect fusion of organic and synthetic life. From here, we could seed the Geth consciousness to other platforms. This unit could influence the shape of galactic civilization."_

" _You mean I can save your race after all? Legion, this is fantastic news!"_

" _We will not be the same. Much has been lost, but yes, through us the Geth might live again, assuming we can break free of Cerberus and we do not have to terminate ourselves."_

" _Is there anyone we can communicate with?"_

" _Shepard Commander, there is not, and an attempt might disable our encryption."_

" _Then you can't risk it. We'll just have to sit tight and wait it out."_

" _Inquiry, what will that accomplish?"_

" _My friends will come for us, Legion. Someone will figure it out, either Miranda, or Liara, maybe Garrus. They'll wonder where my body is, eventually. They'll look for some sign, some memento. They have to."_

" _We consider this, unlikely, but it appears to be our only option for now."_

" _Ok, well, until then, let's see if we can find some more memories I don't need."_

" _Complying…"_

* * *

 **Up Next** : As the Quarian fleet prepares to depart for deep space, the remnants of the Normandy crew gather at the Alenko home to say farewell to Tali.


	18. Party Bomb

_In case you're wondering - Samantha has love goggles on. Ashley and Liara are just friends, unlike Jack and Miranda._

* * *

 _"_ _Look at that party the other night. Everybody wanted to have a good time and tried real hard but we all woke up the next day feeling sorta sad and separate._ _"_

Jack Kerouac

December 7th, 2187

 **Samantha Traynor**

* * *

The day couldn't have been any lovelier. A slight dusting of snow across the fields was blinding under the sunny skies of December. Tiny icicles hung from the dormant branches in the apple orchards, twinkling like the lights on the Alenko Christmas Tree. Samantha couldn't recall a more perfect day in recent memory. If only Diana didn't have that damn interview, they could have spent the whole of it together.

Work was going to be a problem, but Samantha understood what she was marrying into. It wasn't as if her fiancé was a gossip columnist. Diana's cross-species viewership allowed her to be a voice of reason in a difficult time. Samantha was proud of her, especially the way she handled the darkest days in the aftermath of the war. The sickness caused by proximity to the Reaper corpses had caused widespread panic and despair. The illness, known in some circles as Huskeye, and others as Reaper Rot, had claimed well over a million lives. It was halted only by the strictest enforcement of quarantine zones.

Entire portions of the Earth were rendered uninhabitable. This made the increasing alien presence more difficult to bear for some humans. In the minds of the most ignorant, like those in the Terra Firma party, the liberators had become squatters. Diana's editorials on the subject had quelled tensions, but they remained bubbling under the surface. Once the Citadel reached full operational status, things could only improve, or worsen, depending on perspective.

If it wasn't one thing it was another, but now that the Charon and Arcturus Relays were working, there was real hope. Many ships had left for the Exodus Relay. Once it was repaired, the expectation was that they would immediately connect with Annos Basin Relay, and the chain effect of open relays would restore some semblance of normalcy to the galaxy. The belief was high that within the next two years, Surk-Kesh, Palaven, Earth, Thessia, Tuchanka, and Irune, would all be accessible, and then perhaps the colonies would follow.

Samantha tried not to think of what her parents might be facing all the way out on the other end of the galaxy. She glanced in Tali's direction and reminded herself not to complain too much. Nobody had it worse than the Quarians. Rannoch was over fifty thousand light years distance, and a fleet was only as fast as its slowest ship. The Quarian journey home would be perilous, it would take decades, and it would cost lives. An entire generation might never live to see Rannoch. It was a cruel twist of fate.

Offers of help were coming in, mainly from Humans and Turians, but the rest of the galaxy still had a prejudice against Quarians. It was maddening really. Tali was worried for her people, and where was Garrus? He'd vanished ever since the Council promoted him to Spectre. Diana warned her that she shouldn't ask, or bring it up to Tali. Samantha didn't know how to interpret the advice. Did Diana mean to imply that something terrible happened to the Turian, or was he on a classified mission?

If that wasn't secretive enough, she'd heard from Mrs. Alenko that Tali had been here for the past week, secluded with Liara in the barn. Samantha instinctively knew it had to do with that damn canister—the one that she saw Shepard and Tali fussing over in the final days of the war. It had been stored in the AI room on their voyage home, and then she'd spotted it in Liara's shuttle the day she travelled to the Citadel with James Vega.

And more questions; Ashley seemed to be recovered, nearly happy. Samantha watched the Commander interacting with Liara. Something was up. It was the little things—casual glances, frequent touching, inside jokes, and knowing little smiles. It was all very intimate. What was going on?

' _It's none of your business, Samantha,_ ' she reminded herself.

Jean Alenko answered the door, blasting the room with frigid air as soon as she opened it. In stepped one Zaeed Massani. Samantha was surprised, the old mercenary had never seemed like the social type.

Tali greeted him enthusiastically. "Zaeed," she said. "Thank you for being here."

Zaeed shook a small package and handed it to Tali. "Here you go, best dextro fucking whiskey in the galaxy, complete with a box of straws. I wouldn't let my favorite Quarian run off into the void without something to drink, would I?"

"Thank you Zaeed, and thank you for coming," said Tali.

"Wouldn't have missed it," said Zaeed.

The small party of old friends grew another unit larger. With each entry, spirits were lifted and Liara's smile grew broader. Samantha found herself staring at Liara's belly more than once. The sight of it invoked such mixed feelings. There was the joy that life was moving forward, but also a sense of loss. It was wrong that Shepard wasn't here right now, sharing this moment with them, looking forward to the birth of her child.

Samantha watched the people milling around her as she stood by the bottom of the stairwell. Ashley, Liara, and Tali congregated around the dining room table. Samara had pulled Zaeed aside for a few words. Steve Cortez was having a chat with Max and Jean Alenko. Sarah Campbell, Karl Ryan, and Adib Hawi stood near the window, sharing drinks and jokes. As good as it was to see all of them, the absences were notable.

Another taxi came by, and the door chimed shortly after. Samantha waved Jean away this time and decided to make herself useful. She nearly did a double take as soon as she opened the door. Jack stood in the doorway. The notorious biotic crewman of the Normandy was barely recognizable. Her hair was long and full, her face softer, and her clothing—well it was freezing out after all, so the conservative attire made sense. Most surprising of all was the fact that Miranda Lawson accompanied her. Had they managed to get stuck on the same taxi?

Samantha tried to act nonplussed. "Please come in."

Jack immediately motioned for Miranda to enter ahead of her, allowing her hand to brush Lawson's arm in the process. It seemed quite intimate, even more so than the interactions she observed between Liara and Ashley earlier in the day.

' _You need to stop with this,_ ' thought Samantha. ' _Just because you're in love, doesn't mean there are happy couples everywhere, and please; those two? No chance.'_

A chorus of voices called out to them as they entered the room. As Samantha followed them in, she noticed Jack's hand slip behind Miranda's back. It fluttered across the woman's buttocks briefly before flitting away. Miranda poked Jack playfully with her elbow.

' _Ok, I did not imagine that,_ ' thought Samantha.

She couldn't keep out of this one. It was too damn juicy. Samantha felt compelled to test her theory, if only to see the creative excuse they might come up with.

"Did you two get stuck on the same taxi up here?" she asked.

Zaeed immediately perked up, and Tali likewise swung her head in their direction.

There was no evasion at all. "Nope, we took it together," said Jack. "Just like we grabbed the shuttle to Earth together. And yes, we also woke up in the same bed together this morning. Anymore questions, Traynor?"

Samantha was at a loss for words. "Well, um, I suppose, ah… congratulations?"

"Hey, we're just fucking, it's not like we're married or anything," said Jack.

Miranda took a step away. "Gee, you're so romantic darling. Thank you for that."

The room became uncomfortably silent.

Zaeed spoke up. "Goddamn you two, surviving one suicide mission wasn't enough?"

Jack shrugged. "What can I say? I like living on the edge."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Jack's version of living on the edge these days is counseling orphaned children, reading poetry to me before bedtime, and flooding my inbox with messages reminding me to be safe every time I'm out on a mission."

Jack groaned. "You're making me sound pathetic."

"No, I'm making you sound sweet, which is what you are," said Miranda.

Miranda Lawson leaned forward and kissed a blushing Jack in full view of the surprised spectators. Samantha didn't know them well, but based on all she'd heard, it seemed, well, damn peculiar. She would have given anything to see Tali's expression behind that mask. Even Samara, who was normally imperceptible, seemed amazed.

The Asari Justicar spoke what was on everyone's minds. "I believe there is a human expression—now, I have seen everything. I am nearly eight hundred years old, and yet I find myself currently experiencing this sentiment."

Samantha crossed her arms and stared in Ashley and Liara's direction. "Are there any more surprises the rest of us should know about?"

"I heard that Gabby and Ken got married," said Cortez.

"No invitation?" wondered Samantha. "And why aren't they here?"

"I think Donnelly is worried that some of us might want to kick his ass," said Ashley.

Samantha was bewildered. "Over what?"

"There are a series of vids making the rounds, not that I've seen them mind you," clarified Tali. "That exaggerate the adventures of Shepard and the Normandy crew."

Samantha laughed. "Oh, you mean those tawdry Emanuella vids?"

"Yes," said Ashley. "Apparently Mr. Donnelly contributed some material in interviews with the company. He even had the nerve to claim that some of it actually happened."

"Oh, Ashley," said Liara. "I don't know why you are so upset about this. Shepard would have found the entire situation quite amusing. In fact, she would have watched the vids herself, and fussed over the actress's portrayal."

Cortez was amused. "I never knew the Commander had an eye for smut."

Liara smiled. "Well, unlike Joker she didn't make a vocation out of it, but she had an adventurous spirit, and she was an enthusiastic and experimental lover."

Ashley began to protest. "Should we really be talking about this? It seems disrespectful."

Samantha wondered about the source of Ashley's discomfort. Was it respect for Shepard, jealousy over Shepard, or jealousy over Liara?

"I found the Commander to be quite Asari in her outlook on sexuality," said Samara. "She was never as uncomfortable in her skin as most humans I know, though I doubt the veracity of these sordid tales this Emanuella series portrays."

"Though, there is one scene that made me wonder," said Tali, who craned her neck in Miranda's direction. "It featured Emanuella and Operative Ilana in Engineering. It was _surprisingly_ accurate in some of the technical details of our procedures."

Samantha teased Tali. "Didn't you just _mind us_ that you hadn't seen any? Tali Zorah Vas Normandy, have you been holding out on me? Do tell."

Miranda's tone quickly turned to sarcasm. "Pure drivel, of course. I'm sure that Engineer Donnelly worked out all the technical details in his head once he concocted his fantasy."

Samantha shrugged. "Well, I for one have seen several of them with Diana, mostly because we needed a good laugh and we wanted to see how we were portrayed. I guess we'll never be able to tell the parts that are pure fantasy from the parts based on reality, but at least they got the love story between Emanuella and Tiana right. It's all very touching. Smut is smut, but I think the series underlying sweetness and sentimentality is the _real_ reason it has become such a sensation, and it's also the reason I think the Commander would be perfectly fine with its popularity."

Ashley, who had climbed from discomfort to agitation as the conversation continued, drilled Liara with a tough question. "It really doesn't bother you? If it were me, I'd hate it if people started wondering if the person I loved was unfaithful to me."

"Ouch, fun and games are over. Maybe we ought to drop this now," said Cortez.

Liara, however, wasn't uncomfortable at all. "Shepard never lied to me. Whatever her faults may have been, deception wasn't one of them. Remember what she always said?"

Several people in the room parroted Shepard's favorite words. "Secrets get people killed, and lies only compound your troubles."

Samantha smiled. The Commander had drilled those words into them so many times, it had become a military doctrine on the Normandy. Ironic, considering what the frigate was and how it gained its tactical advantage. Of course Shepard had excluded her enemies from this morality, in fact, she reversed her wisdom completely.

" _If secrets get people killed, then all the more reason to keep secrets from your enemies. Never show your hand to the enemy, Traynor, never make a frontal assault unless you have to. Always deceive them, mislead them, and then hit them where they least expect it._ "

"Are you saying that Shepard never kept secrets from you, not even to protect you?" asked Miranda.

Lawson was looking very uncomfortable, and it appeared that Jack had picked up on it. A little bit of the infamous psychotic slipped through the mask. She was no longer quite so amused with the discussion. Her smile vanished completely, the corners of her mouth turning down into a slight scowl.

Liara stared at Miranda thoughtfully. "No, and even if she tried, she knew I'd find out the truth anyway, so I know the truth, all of it. She spared me no detail. Though it was not anywhere near as grand and prolific as the vids pretend it to be. It was all quite innocent and understandable. We were apart for a long period, and I had let her go, just as Shepard had to let me go. It was difficult between us when she found out that I turned her over to Cerberus when she was… critically injured. She was both grateful to me and angry with me at the same time."

"You're a better person than I," said Samantha. "If I were in your position I would have gone utterly mad from jealousy."

Liara sighed. "That's very human, I suppose, but I understood Shepard's compulsions, and the way she dealt with the stress she was under, especially during the times we weren't together. What is important to me is that she made a decision, and it was final. Once she was committed to something, nothing could tempt her or deter her. She always saw it through, especially when it came to love and war, which, as an Asari philosopher once said, are nearly the same thing."

Ashley was moved. Her eyes moistened, reflecting the glint of the sun from the window as she began to recite a poem. "I once was an idler, born for careless ease; my shady couch had made my spirit soft. But care for my lovely girl aroused me from my sloth and bid me to enlist in her campaign. So now you see me forceful, in combat all night long. If you want a life of action, fall in love."

"Here, here!" said Cortez who raised his glass.

"That's beautiful, Ashley," said Liara. "What is it?"

"It's the last stanza of Love and War, by Ovid," said Ashley. "He was one of Shepard's favorite poets. Exiled to the Black Sea by Caesar Augustus early in the first century, he spent the latter part of his life away from friends and family. She probably identified with him, I suppose. Especially after…"

Commander Williams never finished her train of thought. Silence overtook her. Sadness creased into lines on her forehead. However, most of the tension the conversation had created was gone. Miranda took Tali aside to present her with something. Judging from Tali's reaction, it was a profound gift. The only person in the room that hadn't moved on was Jack. She excused herself to the bathroom, citing the long trip, but Samantha could tell that she was positively fuming. There was trouble ahead for Miranda. Hopefully they could get through the rest of the party without bloodshed.

They drank some more, nibbled on hors d'oeuvres, and drifted between small parties. Jack went outside into the cold. Miranda followed shortly thereafter. The guests tried to ignore the sound of arguing coming from outside.

Zaeed watched the window. "There's only one way that's going to end. One of them is going to fucking kill the other. Maybe not today, but sooner or later."

"It does seem an ill-advised relationship," said Samara. "But I wouldn't necessarily give up on them yet. Not all dangerous paths lead to the precipice, some only skirt it. They twist and turn and travel through perilous obstacles before ultimately ending up in a place most wonderful. All the most beautiful monasteries or sanctuaries I've come across in my lifetime are found at the end of such roads. It reminds me of the path I have ahead of me, the one that will take me home to my daughter."

"That's goddamn poetic," said Zaeed.

Samantha checked the time. Realizing that Diana's interview with the President was about to start, she inquired about the vid screen. Jean gladly obliged. She turned it up loud, if only to drown out the arguing couple who were out on the porch. Apparently the freezing cold temperatures did little to temper Jack's anger.

"Aha, checking in on the other half," said Sarah.

Samantha nodded. "Yup, as soon as she's finished she'll take a taxi straight here, she promised."

"When are you guys getting married?" asked Sarah.

"We haven't set a date because I'll be on assignment in Arcturus all spring. Also, we're looking for the right venue, and shopping for houses, but early June is the goal," said Samantha. "Don't worry, you'll get an invitation, Campbell."

Sarah smiled. "I better, Traynor."

The interview came up. Diana, looking lovely as ever, was interviewing President Burns about the allegations against his Vice President. Several Terra Firma were sectioned off away from the interview, protesting against Earth's leadership.

The chant, "Owned by aliens," went up each time the President spoke. Samantha couldn't help but feel sorry for Burns. He had inherited a disaster, and the fact that he had never been elected was working against him. Many political parties were demanding an immediate free election, and Terra Firma was gaining in the polls by claiming that aliens had assigned all of Earth's elected officials.

To make matters worse, the evidence against Vice President Murrain was looking pretty substantial. Several documents that indicated consorting with Asari officials to grant Asari businesses first choice in land developments on Earth, and for prime office space on the Citadel.

As the interview went on, the chants got louder. Security was nearly overwhelmed, forcing Secretary Parasini herself, to get involved. She grabbed two of the Presidents bodyguards and immediately began to restore order. Parasini walked fearlessly up to the picket lines and pushed back at the protestors. If Urdnot Wrex had witnessed the action, he would have notated the size of her quads.

"Now there's a politician I respect," said Cortez.

"She's former security," said Liara. "She's trained for these situations."

"Maybe they picked the wrong President," said Sarah. "Whatever she has to say, it's probably twice as good as the crap that comes out of Burns mouth."

Commander Williams snickered. "The last time I saw Burns, a crazy biotic he'd been ignoring had a gun to his head. He was crying like a baby and begging us to save him while Wrex was imploring Shepard to just shoot everyone and sort it all out later."

Liara's voice changed. "Who is that Asari there, and why does she look so nervous? This doesn't feel right."

Samantha saw the Asari woman getting closer to the President. Security didn't notice her, probably because she was wearing the same press badge that Diana had. There was one Asari who worked with the Battle Space crew, but this woman wasn't her. Liara was right, she did look nervous.

"She's up to no good, sure as shit," growled Zaeed. "Williams, can you call it in?"

"Already on it," said Ashley.

It was too late. The Asari ignited in a ball of fire right next to President Burns, blowing everyone nearby to pieces. Diana's severed arm flew right at the camera before the feed turned to white snow. The room was dead quiet, even the discordant rattle of Jack and Miranda's argument had stopped.

The first sound that came to Samantha's ears was a high pitched screech, a pitiful wail of shock and horror. It took several seconds to process the sound of the scream before she realized that it was emitting from her own throat.

* * *

Up Next: " **The Hounds of Hell** " Petrovsky reveals part of his master plan to Archer.


	19. The Hounds of Hell

_Petrovsky has it all figured out, except, those pesky Geth are like a fly in the ointment._

* * *

 _"_ _There must have been a moment, at the beginning, when we could have said - no. But somehow we missed it._ _"_

Tom Stoppard

December 8th, 2187

 **Dr. Gavin Archer**

* * *

Gavin Archer's life aboard the Roraima had been restrictive and tedious. The spools of data he worked on every day were nothing short of confounding. He'd never seen anything like it. The only thing he'd rightly deduced was a base of the numeric system he was working with, which was nine-hundred and six. Why that number? Gavin found it damn peculiar. It was clunky and restrictive. He'd yet to see any civilization, ancient or otherwise, that had a need for such a bulky base of numerical values.

The other thing he discovered, was that the data he was seeking was apparently encoded on a sub-atomic level. The ability to encrypt data onto atoms themselves, well, it was simply astonishing. It also caused him to reflect. What device could read or write such data? Gavin recalled one piece of the Crucible that had astounded the scientists who were constructing it. A device that seemingly had no purpose, yet was the single most difficult item to create.

From what they could gather, it was a highly advanced EPD with a quantum stabilized atomic mirror crafted of a cryzon crystal, wave polished to a half micron in thickness, and coated with a three picometer layer of element zero. It was the single most delicate instrument produced in galactic history—a scientific achievement in its own right, and the bugger of it all was that they didn't know what it was, or what it was going to do.

On the one hand, much of the Crucible was straightforward, almost too straightforward, but there was an underlying complexity that went beyond the most brilliant minds. It confounded and vexed the greatest scientists in the galaxy. Much of the time they were flying blind. There was an argument for bypassing some of the undefinable and yet complex sub-assemblies altogether, but Hackett wouldn't hear of it. He insisted that every portion of the Crucible be included, and for the whole operation to be built in record time.

The Admiral was asking scientists to make a leap of faith, to believe in miracles. They did so under protest, but they did it because it was the only option. The Asari scientists handled the awkward working conditions the best.

" _It is a Prothean design_ ," they would say.

For the Asari, that was enough, but not so for the Salarians. There were arguments aplenty, frustrations, and at times a sea of doubt, but what else could they do? They built it. They had no time to test it, in fact the final touches were put on in transit, and somehow—someway it worked. Gavin didn't believe in miracles, yet he had witnessed one firsthand.

Why had it happened for their cycle and not of the others? The Council affiliated races were nothing compared to the Prothean Empire. Their fleets were a joke compared to the armadas the Inusannon once deployed. There were ancient races that had developed weapons powerful enough to destroy Reapers with one strike, and yet all of them had fallen. Why had this cycle succeeded? Was it blind luck, fate, or was it something else?

He turned his attention back to his work. What kind of AI was he dealing with? This was far beyond quantum computing. The ability to read and store data on single atoms in such large base blocks, well it was inconceivable. A sub-quantum AI, capable of God-knows-what. The Reapers were able to indoctrinate by altering brain waves, but it was a crude level of manipulation that eventually caused irreparable cellular damage in the brain.

An AI that could do this? The implications were indescribable, and terrifying. Computer firewalls would be rendered obsolete. Stopping a sub-atomic code with their current technology would be like trying to filter bacteria out of water with a pasta colander. Any VI or AI in the galaxy would be vulnerable. This AI could control any computer in existence, and possibly even organics.

Organic matter could be manipulated and fused so delicately that there would be no perceptible damage. Medical advances beyond imagination lay ahead. Immortality was now within their grasp. Worse, there were military considerations. The ability of a biotic to manipulate molecules and atoms gave them unprecedented superiority in the battlefield, but this… Gavin Archer tried to imagine a single mind capable of striking down gunships, fighters, perhaps even a small starship.

He shook his head. "This isn't an AI, this creature… is a god," he said aloud.

The door to his lab opened. Petrovsky walked through.

"You are correct, Dr. Archer. I am pleased with your progress," said the General. "And now you understand the importance of our task ahead. You are witnessing the next step in evolution, or rather, the next leap. A being that transcends all that we know. It is a synthesis of artificial and organic life. We cannot allow it to roam free, and we cannot allow it to fall into the hands of aliens."

"But it is perfectly fine in the hands of humans?" asked Gavin.

"Not even our own," said Petrovsky. "From the moment this creature came into existence, you and I, and every organic and synthetic being in the galaxy became as irrelevant as a lab rat. It must be studied, but above all it must be contained."

Gavin sighed. "It seems you do have it contained then. Why did you need me?"

Petrovsky looked Gavin in the eye, and made a persuasive argument. "Because we must understand it, Dr. Archer. We must know its secrets, therefore we must learn to communicate with it. It must be bridled and used for the betterment of humanity. We cannot make the same mistakes the Illusive Man made, we dare not become its slaves. Better it be destroyed, than we suffer that fate."

Gavin was skeptical. "You seem supremely confident. How long do you think we can keep this a secret? You escaped from the Alliance and kidnapped me. You have to know that they'll eventually come looking."

Petrovsky puffed out his chest, seemingly enthused by Gavin's response. It seemed as if he had a speech prepared for every argument Gavin could come up with.

He began to articulate. "Excellent points you make Dr. Archer, which is precisely why I have taken precautions. Did you believe that I would just slink away and hide? No, I am on the attack! The board is in play, and the pieces are moving. Even as we speak the Alliance is left in a daze as a result of my most recent gambit.

I assure you, they'll have little thought for me while they're looking for alien provocateurs and investigating their own politicians. I will reveal myself to them in due time, but by then they will have no choice but accept my leadership and the gifts I will offer to the whole of humanity. I will put it in such a way that the people themselves will demand it. Now, follow me. You have earned the right to see the project."

Gavin Archer was led from his lab and out into a corridor. His security detail had been especially tight in recent weeks and today was no exception. Lt. Commander Nicholas made a rare appearance. Every time he set eyes on the woman, he felt strange. She had a near aphrodisiac effect on his libido, yet at the same time his blood ran cold. He had never been so terrified of such an attractive specimen. She was the equivalent to honey laced with cyanide.

She crossed the distance and slipped in next to Petrovsky, adjusting her stride to match his without a hitch. Nicholas played the dutiful servant quite well. Gavin wondered just how submissive she was. Did the General take her to his bed? There was not a doubt in Gavin's mind as to her willingness. There was only the question of Petrovsky's mastery over his second in command.

Petrovsky, Gavin could deal with, at least for now. There was a sense of honor and duty to the man in spite of his nefarious schemes and grand delusions. Nicholas, on the other hand, had no such scruples. She was malignant inside. She regarded Gavin like a mouse that she couldn't wait to get her sharp teeth around. She'd paw him, claw him, leave him bleeding and wounded, and then lick at his wounds for the joy of it before she snapped in him half with her powerful jaws.

His intuition regarding Michelle Nicholas had become a near premonition. Gavin already half-believed the woman was going to be the instrument of his death. The death he imagined wasn't a particularly pleasant one either. He eyed her warily as he listened in on her conversation with Petrovsky.

"We cannot keep the subject on ice forever," she said. "We've slowed its body functions as far as we can, but the real danger is when we try to awaken it. When it feels pain, how will it react? I am not so certain it will even survive the shock."

"Are you saying that you don't have the situation under control, Michelle?" asked Petrovsky.

"I understand what to do," replied Nicholas. "But I don't have the experience. If I could acquire the asset you talked about..."

Petrovsky nodded. "Ah, you mean, Operative Lawson?"

"Yes," said Nicholas. "She has extensive experience with the subject under similar conditions. She would be invaluable to its survival."

Petrovsky sighed. "Is that true, or do you just want her under your heel? This is really no time to indulge in revenge fantasies, Michelle. I have no particular plan in place to extract her, so there would be a risk. She might be missed."

"No one will miss her," said Nicholas. "She's socially isolated, outside of that lunatic she's been seeing. Now is the time to bring her in, before she starts digging and discovers our involvement in the assassination of the President."

"And when we bring her in, you'll want the personal pleasure of breaking her, no doubt," said Petrovsky.

Nicholas scarcely tried to contain her enthusiasm. "Yes, but it fits with our objective, do you not agree?"

"Yes; how serendipitous for you," said Petrovsky. "Report to my quarters by nineteen hundred. Show me your plan. If I believe the risk is minimal, I will allow you to proceed."

"Thank you, Sir," said Nicholas.

Gavin Archer suddenly felt a surge of sympathy for one Miranda Lawson.

Once they reached the quarantine section of the ship, they were required to pass through several bacteria and particle scrubbers. They changed into clean environment suits that also had several layers of shielding. Once security cleared them through the outer chamber, the entered the clean room. To Gavin's horror, it was quite reminiscent of Project Overlord, only worse, much worse.

The subject was suspended in the middle of the room. It took some time for Gavin to discern the species, for it was hairless, pink, and fleshy. Conduit plugs had replaced its eyes, and whatever it once had for ears, had been cut away from the head. Two holes remained, sealed by silicone. Its head was bolted to a harness. Various probes, fluid exchangers, and intravenous feeds were attached. Gavin also realized that the species was unfamiliar only because it had no arms or legs.

Once Gavin took it all in and recognized breasts and genitalia, it became apparent that the subject was, or had once been, a human female. Still he couldn't quite grasp what he was seeing. Was this some mockery of humanity, some satire of form created by an AI? Surely the subject he was studying could not have been human, could it? The room was quite cold, barely above freezing. No bare human body could survive in this environment for more than a few minutes, especially in this depleted condition.

"The subject is quite resilient, and yet fragile at the same time," said Petrovsky. "We have introduced chemicals to keep it in a comatose state, and to slow its metabolism. It was in transition when we recovered it. We had to move quickly. There are also several other mysteries we hope you can solve for us. This was originally a Cerberus research subject, so its body contains cybernetics. These cybernetics were controlled by simplistic, yet efficient VI's. However, that is no longer the case. I'd like to find out exactly what has changed."

Gavin Archer was aghast. "Cerberus research subject? Do you mean to tell me that we created this abomination ourselves? Was this one of the Illusive Man's projects?"

"One person's abomination is another's savior, or in this case, the savior of our entire galaxy. The original subject was created under Project Lazarus. It was a revival project, and it was the greatest success story in the history of Cerberus," said Petrovsky.

Gavin shook his head. "What are you saying? Lazarus was the name of the project that restored…"

Gavin Archer stared at the subject suspended before him. He mentally removed all the instruments, the wires, the feeding tube, and focused on what was left of its features—the jawline, the lips, the cheekbones, the shoulders, and the neck.

"My God, My God," said Gavin. "Commander Shepard? Petrovsky, what have you done?"

"Not me," said Petrovsky. "This is the handiwork of the Reapers, or perhaps the Crucible in conjunction with the Reapers. The body was badly damaged by the time we reached it. It resisted our attempts to render normal medical treatment, thus we had to amputate the appendages to save its life. This is no longer Commander Shepard, it has become something else. What you are looking at is the equivalent of a fetus, Archer, or perhaps even an egg. From this, a new species will be born, but if we cannot communicate with it, bend it to our will, then we must abort it. Do you understand?"

"NO!" screamed Gavin. "You go too far. I will not be a part of this. Goddamn you, Petrovsky. I won't."

Petrovsky sighed. "Ah, it is unfortunate, Dr. Archer, that it has come to this. Remember what I warned you?"

Archer cast his eyes down definitively. "David will understand, and he will forgive me, God help me. He would never want me to do this on his behalf."

"Michelle, unfortunately I require your assistance in this matter. I need to you help Dr. Archer come to a better decision," said Petrovsky.

"With pleasure," said Nicholas. "I was going to require some practice for Lawson in any case."

Gavin felt a wash of terror as Lt. Commander Nicholas leered at him. What had he done? He had put himself exactly where she wanted him, and yet he had no choice in the matter, none at all. His best hope was to find some way to end his own life.

"Watch yourself. I need him alive and useful, Michelle," said Petrovsky.

Nicholas stared at what was left of Commander Shepard. "Don't worry, Sir, I know exactly what is required to keep him intact."

Upon reflection, Gavin was overwhelmed.

He fainted.

* * *

 **Up Next** : _Jack and Miranda try to move forward with their relationship, can they work it out?_


	20. To Have and Have Not

_"_ _And now my bitter hands cradle broken glass of what was everything. All the pictures have all been washed in black, tattooed everything..._ "

Pearl Jam

December 12th, 2187

 **Subject Zero**

* * *

"Excellent, Sophie!" said Jack. "Do you see this, everyone? Dryden couldn't even make a barrier when we started. Now look at her. She's kicking ass. Tell me Sophie, if I pulled a standard issue pistol out of my desk and started firing at you, how long could you hold up? Be honest."

The kid smiled with confidence. "It would take you at least eight rounds with a standard pistol, unless you had ammo mods designed to tear down my barrier."

"You want to test that?" asked Jack.

"Hell, yea!" said the girl.

Jack opened her desk and retrieved the dummy pistol that Kahlee had authorized her to use. Most of the students gasped and fled to their desks, or even to the back of the room. The Dryden girl, however, stood her ground. Her grin spread even wider. There was no hesitation. The kid was bold. Jack couldn't have been prouder. This was what it was all about.

"Go ahead," declared the girl. "Fire away!"

Jack leveled the pistol.

"No way!" screamed one student. "You can't do that in here, I'll call the admin."

"This is so messed up," said another student. "You're going to get yourself killed, Sophie."

Jack laughed, then waved the pistol. "You can relax the barrier, Dryden, this isn't a real gun. I just wanted to test you."

"Ah, darn," said the girl. "I wanted to see."

The girl dropped her barrier. Her forehead was covered in small beads of sweat, and her hands started to shake from the adrenaline.

"Ok, that's just crazy," said an older boy.

"And that attitude is why your barrier sucks, Wilson," said Jack. "Think about it, when we started, you had the best barrier here, but now look at you. If someone came after you, you'd be dead. Do you know why?"

Adam Wilson's face reddened. He shook his head.

"Because this is just a game to you," said Jack. "You're spending every weekend messing around, trying to scam crappy booze from the reds so you can party with your friends. Meanwhile, Sophie here has been working her ass off every weekend. Putting in the time, putting in the discipline. What is being a strong biotic all about? Tell them, Dryden."

"Focus," said the girl.

"Exactly," said Jack. "Now, we're two days away from winter break. After you get back from lunch today, we're moving on from barriers, and we're going to start with pull fields. I want you to have the basics down, and when you come back from winter break, I don't want hear: ' _Teacher, teacher, I forgot how!_ ' Are we clear? I want to take what you learn in the next few days and actually practice it and improve on it, because when you get back in January, there will be a five point quiz first thing in the morning."

The students groaned in unison. A chime sounded, indicating lunch break. Jack was keying in some notes on her pad when one of her students interrupted her.

"Hey, teacher," said Adam. "I think your girlfriend's here. Try not to be too late getting back from lunch!"

The students who hadn't already run out the door started laughing. She looked up and spotted Miranda standing just inside the classroom doorway. Jack let loose a scowl on the remaining kids, which emptied the classroom in seconds. She was alone with Miranda.

"Impressive," said Miranda. "I see you've found your motivation again. You're really good with them, Jack."

"Yea," said Jack. "What are you doing here, Lawson? I thought you said you'd be gone for a few weeks."

Miranda crossed the room to Jack's desk and set down the small pack she was carrying. As she turned to unzip it, Jack couldn't help but notice the unusual outfit. The black leggings Miranda wore were even tighter than the old Cerberus getup, in fact the entire outfit was sluttier than anything Jack had seen her wear before, and that was saying something. Her light—possibly pink—tank was cropped, baring her midriff. It was also made of thin material, and she didn't appear to have anything on underneath it. Retrieving a bright, red apple from her pack, she set it on Jack's desk and smiled.

"Uh," said Jack. "Is that real fruit? And what the hell, Miranda, those clothes… no wonder Wilson made that crack. I have teenage boys in this class. I give them a lecture about focus, and you show up here looking like that? You could get arrested for that shit around here. It's going to be hell after lunch to get their minds out of their pants."

Miranda smirked. "Sorry about that, the plan was to get a rise out of you. And, yes, the apple is real. I got it from a cargo ship headed from Benning to Earth."

Jack snatched up the apple and bit into it. Damned if it didn't taste like heaven. She hadn't eaten anything but processed slime protein since the night of Shepard's party. How long ago had that been? Seven or eight months at least. Jack couldn't help but let out a small grunt of pleasure as she took another bite. Her taste buds were in love. She was finding it difficult not to drool all over her own fucking desk.

"Feel better?" asked Miranda. "I hear it's an old Earth tradition for the teacher's pet to bring an apple as a gift."

Jack sighed. "Yea, that's probably bullshit, but in this case, major, major points, Lawson. That outfit isn't bad either, just keep it away from the kids next time."

Miranda purred. "Yes, teacher, I'll do anything you say."

"Oh, my God, you are not doing this to me right now, not here," said Jack.

"Can't we slip away to your apartment for a little bit?" asked Miranda.

Jack shook her head. "Not enough time, Lawson, not even for the quickest of quickies, and I don't think Sanders would be happy if she glanced at the classroom feed and saw us getting naked on my desk. This job is my ticket to respectability, you know that."

Miranda mock sighed. "Look at you, the responsible one in this couple. Who would have guessed?"

Jack took another bite of the apple, chewed it slowly, savored it, and swallowed it down—all the while staring at Miranda. It was obvious that Lawson was nervous about how they'd left things. This past weekend had gone tits up, and not in a good way.

"So we're a couple, now?" asked Jack.

Miranda retreated. She looked a little worried, maybe even hurt. "Only if you want to be," she said.

Jack took another bite, chewed, swallowed, and considered Miranda thoughtfully.

"You seem different these days, too nice, too eager to please, not bitchy enough—not that I'm complaining, mind you. But I don't know if this is the real you coming out, or that last mission sent you over the edge, and I'm like this branch you're hanging onto as you dangle off the edge of some cliff. Ah, I don't even know what the fuck I'm saying, but I can't stay mad at you over nothing. I'm not pissed, ok? You were right, it's really none of my business—whatever went down between you and Shepard," said Jack.

"You were right as well," said Miranda. "I shouldn't have gotten so defensive. I don't know why I wasn't just honest. I think I let some of the crew influence my thinking. You saw how they looked at us, like we were crazy."

"Fuck 'em," said Jack. "They don't know what's best for us."

Miranda sighed. "I shouldn't have let it get to me. Listen, there was nothing between me and Shepard. I mean, nothing physical. We were close for a while, and maybe… but she got angry when she found out how I acquired her corpse from Liara. I had never explained that little detail to her, and you know how she was with secrets."

Jack nearly choked on her apple. "What the fuck do you mean, corpse?"

Miranda cocked her head. "I wonder how many times she told her friends and crew that she came back from the dead, and most of you still don't quite get it. Jack, she was dead for real, ok? We brought her back. That's what Project Lazarus was. It was the greatest medical achievement of all time, so of course I felt close to my subject."

Jack was bewildered. "Holy shit. I thought that was some metaphor or joke. I thought you'd brought her out some medically-induced coma or stasis, but you say corpse like you mean it. You're not shitting me are you?"

Miranda shook her head. "Not shitting you. Deader than dead. To be honest, I still don't know how we did it. It was an adventure just getting the body, but there was a moment that inspired me."

Judging by the look on Miranda's face, it had been profound.

Jack was curious. "What do you mean, inspired you?"

"It was Liara," said Miranda. "She wanted to see the body. Jacob didn't want her to, because it was bad. It actually looked worse than it was, if you can believe that. Ever seen what decompression can do to human eyeballs? It isn't pretty."

"But you wanted to show it to her, of course," said Jack.

"Yes," said Miranda. "I wanted to convince her to let go."

"Fucking evil," said Jack. "And you wonder why I didn't like you when I first met you?"

"But that was the moment that changed everything for me," said Miranda.

Jack wasn't sure if she liked where this was going. "How?"

"The way Liara responded," said Miranda. "I'd never seen anyone in that much pain. When she set her eyes on Shepard's corpse, it was… God, that scream. I'll never forget it. It sounded like someone or something tore her soul right of her body."

"And that was inspirational? I worry about you. What about Samantha the other day, was that inspiring?" asked Jack.

"No, that was just tragic because I've come to know Traynor, but that day with Liara was different. I'd never seen anything so real," explained Miranda. "I was struggling with many things. Jacob and I were nearing the end. There was no passion there, nothing real. I saw Liara's pain and I was jealous. I didn't think I'd ever be able to feel something so deep that losing it could take a part of you away."

"Is that what this change in you is all about?" asked Jack.

Miranda shrugged. "I'm not sure. When Jacob died, I felt… damn. Maybe this isn't the place."

"We can talk tonight," said Jack.

Miranda shook her head. "That's why I wanted to get you back to your place. I have one last lead I'm working on, so I'll be gone for a few days."

Jack felt disappointed. "Again? What is this shit you are into Miranda?"

"I can't talk about it," she said.

"Does this have to do with the Veep taking out the Prez?" wondered Jack.

"Not directly," said Miranda. "Seriously though, I can't talk about it. I'll try to get back to see you as soon as I can."

"You better," said Jack. "I start winter break on Friday, and I want to spend time with you."

"With me?" said Miranda. "That sounds very couple-ish of you."

Jack chewed on the apple some more. It was almost gone.

She mumbled under her breath, and then made an admission. "Yea, it's starting to get that feel. Here we are talking through shit after a fight. I've never done this before, Miranda. I don't have a comparison. The only other person I really cared about, well, we were always on the move. I didn't even know what it was until I lost him."

"I understand," said Miranda. "I've never done this before either, not really. The closest thing I had was Jacob, and that was essentially a professional partnership with benefits."

"So, Jacob, but not Shepard," said Jack.

"No, never Shepard," said Lawson. "I wasn't sure, well, if Shepard was a guy, it may have been different."

Jack tried to interpret. "So, you're about men?"

"Until you, yes," said Miranda.

"I don't know what I am. I've always been all over the place. Hey, wait. Are you telling me I'm the first?" asked Jack.

"Yes," said Miranda.

Jack shook her head. "Fuck, Lawson, you learn fast. That night, that was… and then, all the times after."

"It's you, it's about us," said Miranda. "But, sometimes I wonder if Shepard built a nest in our heads as a joke, because she'd been drinking that night."

"Not her style, you know that," said Jack. "No, you're right. This is about you and me. It always has been. Shit, from the second I set eyes on you, I knew you'd be trouble for me."

Miranda leaned in close. "Care to elaborate?"

"Lunch is running short. Another time, Miri," said Jack.

Miranda cocked an eyebrow. "What did you call me?"

Jack felt strange, as if her stomach was going to float up inside her chest. "I don't know, it just came out. I'm in some weird fucking territory here."

"I like it," said Miranda. "It sounded right, good even."

"Yea, so Miri it is, then," said Jack.

Miranda kissed her. It was tender, wet, and all too brief.

Jack warmed all over, from her face to her toes. "Goddamn you, I want to… the kids, ah, shit."

One of those kids, Sophie of course, had just returned from lunch a few minutes early. Jack wasn't about to chase her out. She slipped into her desk, her eyes locking onto Miranda's backside like magnets. The poor kid was stuck somewhere between astonishment and confusion. That outfit was just too much.

"You better get moving," said Jack.

Miranda leaned forward and whispered into Jack's ear. "I'll be back in a few days, maybe this weekend if you're lucky. I'll bring some more food, and some clothes that will really get me in trouble."

Jack answered under her breath. "Damn, that's evil. You put that in my head, and I've got a class to teach."

Miranda kissed Jack on the cheek, and made a quick exit from the classroom, but not before several students arriving back from lunch got a good look at the parade. They slid into their desks and started whispering to each other. Sophie quickly became the center of attention as she had been there first and had seen the most of Miranda. By the time all the students were seated, Jack had sucked the last bit of flesh off the apple and was chewing on the core.

Adam shook his head. "Wow, that woman was blazing, solid cred, and she brings you fresh fruit. If you were teaching us how to land one of those, I'd study till my eyes started bleeding."

Jack disposed of her apple core, wiped her hands and smiled.

"Being a badass biotic, is what landed me _one of those_ , Wilson. A few years from now, if your barrier still sucks, girls are going to laugh at you and walk on by. Now, are you going to pay attention, or go the loser route?" she asked.

Wilson sat up straight in his seat. "Just tell me what I need to know, teacher. I'm ready to learn."

The kids put good work in the next two days. By the time school let out, Jack was mentally exhausted. Sophie lingered after class for a few more pointers. The girl was after it, and now that Wilson had stepped up his game, it was on. Sophie was younger and smaller than the rest of the kids, and she was an orphan. Jack didn't ask where she was staying. Kahlee took care of that end of things, but the fact that she was here in school was a good sign. It meant that the Alliance had an interest in her, which also meant hot meals and a roof over her head during vacation.

As she was packing up her stuff for the walk home she found herself thinking of Miranda, which happened often recently. Where the fuck was this going? She'd gone down this path for the hell of it, because she was bored and a little bit lost, but now it had taken on a life of its own. Jack wasn't used to having things. She had her job, the kids, and now this thing with Lawson. It was strange as hell to feel this way, to be living this life. What was really fucked up, is that she'd spend the next few days going out of her mind waiting for Miranda to show up.

Walking home, she fell into an internal argument over whether to hit the bar. A few drinks might ease the wait, but nah, a hot shower sounded great. It was Friday, and the place would be packed with locals. Gargarin had been shedding population ever since the relay opened. It was downright hospitable, and they'd eased up on water rations. Food on the other hand, had been an issue. She'd been living on algae protein bars for too long. Jack made a mental note to do some grocery shopping before Miranda showed up again.

She reached the door of her small apartment, slapped her palm on the scanner, and stepped inside. Her nostrils were flooded with a pungent odor of spices. Was it Italian? French? She couldn't make up her mind. She spotted Miranda behind the small cooking counter. She was wearing an apron, and… for some reason Jack couldn't figure out what else she had on. A flood of warmth rushed to her head. It was unlike anything she'd experienced before. It felt like some kind of narcotic, the way she felt when they rewarded her on after a good fight as a kid. Was this happiness, then?

"Miri!" she exclaimed.

Miranda smiled. "I figured you'd come straight home today. You look downright excited, Jack. I could get used to that face."

"And I could get used to this," said Jack. "What are you cooking, and what the hell are you wearing?"

Miranda laughed. "I told you I'd bring back more food from Benning, so I'm cooking for you. Some of it is even traditional holiday stuff. I made Pierogi, which is a Polish Dumpling, Chicken Kiev, and this bread here is called Vanocka. As far as what I'm wearing? I know I made promises there as well, but I ran out of time, so all I could manage was the apron."

Miranda turned around. Damned if she wasn't being straight up. She had nothing but an apron on. There were more warm feelings, and… other feelings. Jack went in for the kiss, which turned out to be quite tasty.

Jack laughed. "You tried some of your cooking?"

"Just tasting as I go along, to make sure I get it right. Turns out I'm pretty good at this. I was a little worried when I started," said Miranda.

"Uh, you've never cooked before and you just whipped up this elaborate spread?" asked Jack.

Miranda smirked. "Well, I can do a lot of things if I'm motivated enough."

Jack kissed her again. She found bare flesh and began to run her hands across it.

Miranda gently pushed her way. "No, no, no," she said. "Not yet. I have to finish this Kiev. Go take your shower while I finish up here."

Jack almost did a double take at the words. It was the oddest thing, like Miranda read her mind.

She was bewildered. "Uh, how did you?"

"I pay attention," said Miranda. "You have your little routines, your little quirks. I like knowing them. You shower first thing after work, never in the morning, unless you drink too much."

"Yea, I guess I do," said Jack.

She made her way to the small bathroom, shed her work clothes and climbed in the shower. It was a small stall. She let the water roll over her, soak into her, while she tried to get her head straight. Miranda brought her food, made her food, dressed for her, got naked for her to turn her on. Miranda knew when Jack took showers, she even knew that she'd skip her usual at the bar today and come home early. The Cerberus woman was in her head, all the way. Jack had let her in. Was that even smart?

Miranda said she paid attention. Of course she did, she was a trained operative, a fucking spy. It was her job to know this shit. She'd probably even learned how to cook so she could pose as a chef to assassinate some poor bastard. Fucking Cerberus, what had she gotten herself into?

' _Fuck, stop being so paranoid,_ ' thought Jack. ' _She's your girlfriend. She's supposed to know this shit."_

She reminded herself that Miranda was not with Cerberus anymore. There was no fucking Cerberus anymore, just a few war criminals on the run—war criminals that Lawson was hunting for the Alliance. She needed to let it go. She needed to let herself feel this.

The shower door opened. Water sprayed in every direction. Miranda pressed her soft body into Jack, pinning her against the wall as she shut the shower door behind her. Hot water poured over them, dripping into eyes and mouths. Liquid soap oozed over Jack's body, scented like some fucking flower she couldn't name. Miranda kept slathering it, pressing her soapy hands every place they could go. Skin slipped over skin as they pressed and squirmed against each other, until finally there was no more soap to spill.

Miranda's mouth found Jack's lips, then her neck, her ears, and breasts, and then down to her belly. She knew all Jack's spots—the one just inside of her hip that drove her crazy, how to press her fingers into that special place on her spine, and then lower—where to kiss, and how many fingers to make an entrance with, when to use more, and just how to move them. It didn't take very long at all, and felt like it lasted an hour. Jack had never screamed so loud in her life, not through any of the torture she experienced, and certainly never out of pleasure.

Her legs turned to noodles, her body went limp, and she slid helplessly down the wall of the shower, crumpling onto the tiles. She was hot, cooking hot, sweating and shaking in the shower. Everything went black, and she felt a little sick to her stomach. Miranda was saying something, but Jack couldn't make out the words.

"Cold water," Jack mumbled deliriously. "Please… cold water."

Miranda adjusted the spray to cool. It helped a little, but soon it was too cold. Jack was utterly drained, chilled, shaking. Somehow Miranda got her out of the shower, toweled her off, and slipped beneath the warm sheets of the bed with her. She came back to life, smelled food, felt the warm body of her lover, and opened her eyes. Miranda's smile greeted her.

"Are you ok?" asked Miranda.

Jack gave a small nod. "Yea, just a little wiped out. I've never felt anything like that. You've got crazy skills, Lawson."

"I didn't do much at all, really. I think…" Miranda paused.

Jack felt fear. She tried to push it down. "Go ahead and say it."

"It's never really about skills, is it? It's about how you feel about someone. You let your guard down for me," said Miranda.

"Yea, I did," said Jack. "You haven't though, not all the way. I'm supposed to be the hard case. What are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid. I just don't know how, not like you. You've got a big heart, and you've spent your whole life trying to shield it, trying to teach yourself not to feel things. I started out with a small heart, the one my father gave me. I've spent my whole life trying to not be him, trying to feel more," said Miranda.

"You got involved with Cerberus so you could feel human?" asked Jack.

"It was a cause. One that seemed important. For the longest time I didn't care about anything at all. Cerberus was an idea, and I thought if I could believe in it, then I could feel something real. That I could be real, not some fake—something made in a lab. It's like you said, I was trying to earn it," explained Miranda.

Jack was skeptical. "So Cerberus helped you become a better person?"

"No," said Miranda. "It all turned out to be a lie. It was caring about my sister, doing something for her, that made me feel real, and then it was Shepard. She believed in me, made me think that I was worth something outside of what my father created. Her viewpoint was the opposite of the Illusive Man's. Cerberus gave me a cause, but with them it was all about what I was created to be—maximizing human potential.

I thought we were improving Shepard when we brought her back, but then I saw her struggling with what she had become, a creation of science—more machine than human, and yet her heart was bigger than any real human I've ever known. I realized that it wasn't just her personality or courage, but the way she cared about people. That's what made her great, not the upgrades we gave her, not the skills she'd learned, or the biotic potential—it was all about her passion to make things right. That's why Kai Leng never stood a chance against her."

"I can see that," said Jack. "The Girl Scout was real with me every step of the way, made me believe she cared, which isn't easy to do. And now, here you are. Does being with someone as fucked up as I am make you feel more human?"

Miranda stroked Jack's hair tenderly. "You're really not as broken as you pretend to be. You're a fighter, and you're strong because you feel so much, not because you don't feel anything at all. All that hate, all that anger that you channel that makes you so formidable—that all comes from your heart.

Shepard was the same way. I'm a skilled biotic, but I could never match either of you in terms of raw strength. Science says I should be able to—I was designed to have maximum biotic potential, but I never had the passion to drive me that far."

"Shit, Miri, you're getting deep on me, but you still didn't answer my question," said Jack.

Miranda kissed Jack. "I feel alive with you, more alive than I've ever felt before. Is that an answer?"

"Half of one, anyway," said Jack.

Miranda slid her finger over Jack's upper lip. Jack bit at it and Miranda giggled. It was playful, and it felt so good to be this way with her. The word _real,_ which was so important to Lawson, began to resonate with Jack as well.

Miranda sighed. "I want to please you. It's important to me, almost as important to me as seeing that my sister is safe. I like it when you call me Miri. It makes me feel… happy. I like the way it sounds. It's certainly far better than cheerleader, which I hated by the way."

Jack laughed. "I know you hated it, that's why I used to say it. I saw you as utterly spoiled."

"But I wasn't," said Miranda. "My father was hard as hell on me."

Jack wasn't completely buying it. "Did he beat the hell out of you?"

Miranda's expression turned sad. She shook her head. "No, but I think I would have liked that a lot better than what I got."

"What did you get?" asked Jack.

"Indifference," said Miranda. "I was like, a trophy, or tool. Something that was there for a purpose or an accolade, a testament to his ego, but hardly an object of his affection. He never once put his hands on me for good or bad. I can't ever remember a hug, or a kiss. I do remember trying to provoke him into striking me. I think I was just desperate for any physical contact at all."

"Fuck!" said Jack. "Ok, that is messed up. I'm not saying you had it worse than me or anything, but at least I got felt up occasionally by a perverted guard. Even got off on it a few times, mostly when I was high on narcotics after I was rewarded for killing some other kid."

Miranda sighed and shook her head. "Ok, now I just sound pathetic with my _'daddy didn't hug me_ ' nonsense. As much as I hated my childhood, I wasn't tortured, drugged, or forced to murder other children," said Miranda. "I'm sorry you had to live like that, Jack, I really am, and I am in awe of the person you've become in spite of it all."

Jack grinned at Miranda. "Save the ass kissing for later, and then can you go crazy… for real."

Miranda covered her face with her hands, suppressing laughter.

She recovered and propped herself up. "We should eat before the food gets cold, and trust me, you're going to need your strength tonight."

"Oh, now that is the kind of threat I like to hear from you," said Jack.

They got out of bed, threw on some comfortable clothes, and Miranda served up the food. It tasted as good as it smelled, but Jack ate sparingly. Her appetite was for something else.

"So why this food?" asked Jack.

"Well, it's sort of a tribute to things we never had. My grandmother, my father's mother that is, was Polish. I never met her, but I try to imagine what it would have been like to grow up in that culture. The Kiev, well, one of the Alliance soldiers who's been watching my back on my investigations is Russian, and he passed along his mother's recipe to me," said Miranda.

Jack gave Miranda a mock scowl. "That better be all he passed along."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Right, not my type."

"What about the bread, what's it called?" asked Jack.

"Vanocka," said Miranda.

"Ok, so why did you make it for me?" asked Jack.

Miranda took a deep breath. "Don't get upset with me, but according to Liara, your birth mother..."

Jack cut her off abruptly. "Yea, I haven't really been in the mood to explore that shit."

"I know," said Miranda. "And I won't go any further unless you ask me to."

"Maybe one day, not now," said Jack. "But I think I can handle nationality at least, so Czech?"

"It looks that way," said Miranda.

"You're probably right," said Jack. "Good stuff, Vanocka—it's the second sweetest thing I've tasted today."

Miranda laughed. "I guess I've come a long way indeed. I'm better than holiday bread."

"Hey, it's a big time compliment," said Jack. "This bread is fucking incredible!"

Miranda slowly unbuttoned her shirt, opening it just enough to give Jack a peek. She pursed her lips into a sexy pout. Miranda's effect on Jack was as intense as ever. She always managed to get Jack's blood up, but now it was all about desire instead of anger.

"Enough about the bread," said Miranda.

Jack swallowed down the rest of the bread, and grabbed Miranda with a biotic pull. Lawson yelped, but made no effort to resist as Jack tossed her across the room and let her bounce on the bed. She followed, stepping out of her loose shorts and throwing off her pullover. Climbing on top of her lover, she ripped Miranda's shirt off the rest of the way and gave her a swat on her bare bottom. It was one of those intimate things that Jack had learned about Miranda. She liked it—a lot.

Miranda squirmed on the bed. "Harder," she said.

Jack did it again, a little harder, but still playful.

Miranda let out a ferocious growl. "Harder than that, spank me goddammit!"

Jack let loose with enough force to leave a handprint. It freaked her out a little bit.

Miranda grabbed fistfuls of the bedsheets. She groaned with delight. "Yes! Again, keep going."

' _Who am I to argue?_ ' thought Jack.

She continued until Miranda turned over and wrapped her legs around Jack's body, indicating she was ready for something else. Jack indulged herself in her lover's flesh, discovering where to bite, where to kiss, and where to touch. It wasn't long before she took her to the edge and then pushed her over. After Miranda recovered, they started again, exchanging positions, but not roles. Miranda understood that Jack required a gentle touch.

Minutes drifted into hours, until finally, they were, the both of them—content. They faced each other, deep in the night, on the edge of sleep. Jack wept while Miranda held her tight, whether it was out of emotion, fatigue, or just plain happiness, she couldn't say, but it felt good. Jack felt… cleaner afterwards.

"How long are you going to stay?" she asked Miranda.

"Tonight, and then I have free time. My lead turned into a dead end, so I'm done for now. I'm suspicious about what happened with the President, but Hackett doesn't want me near it because of my past. I think that's it with the Alliance. I'll have to figure out something else to do. I just have one meeting in the morning on the other side of the relay. It's more of a personal thing, making amends and all of that. I'll be back by late afternoon or early evening. And then I have weeks, months, all of it free. I'll stay for as long as you want, if you don't mind having me underfoot," said Miranda.

"Bring a bag of your stuff, or two, or whatever you want. We'll shack up, play house and all that shit," said Jack.

"Good, it's settled then, we'll have to think of something to do," said Miranda.

"Funny," said Jack.

"I mean, aside from sex," said Miranda. "We need to find things we like to do together, common ground. I want this to be more than just passion. I want something real."

Jack felt nervous. It was what she wanted as well, but it was strange to consider. She was out of her element, all the way out. She was in a complete freefall off the cliff she'd leapt from; it was too late to consider how far down it went, or what was at the bottom. If it was rocks, she was fucked.

Jack couldn't help herself. She wanted to take it all the way. What was true was true, even if it made it worse if it all went to hell.

"Miri?" she asked.

Miranda stirred, having nearly fallen asleep. "Yes?"

"I'm going to say something, you don't have to say anything back, ok? In fact, don't—please don't. I want to do this on my own—need to do it," said Jack.

"Understood," said Miranda.

Jack took a breath, it was harder than she thought it was going to be. She felt weak and stupid.

Finally, she forced the words out of her lips. "I love you."

Miranda let out a sigh of happiness. She kissed Jack passionately, honoring her lover's request by not responding.

Jack wrapped her arms and legs around Miranda tight as she could.

"You're mine," she said. "Mine!"

Miranda's body tensed up immediately. Jack meant to ask if there was something wrong, but before the words came out, she fell into a deep sleep.

Jake awoke late in the morning, nearly in the afternoon in fact. She hadn't slept for so long, or so good in years. Miranda was gone, off on her personal errand, wherever or whatever that was. Jack tidied up the apartment some. Ate more of the food, made the bed, and waited. Late afternoon turned to evening. She checked her messages, nothing.

Paranoia crept up from the pit of her stomach when she remembered Miranda's body language just before she fell asleep.

Jack admonished herself out loud. "Why the fuck did you say that to her?"

In retrospect, it wasn't the wisest choice of words with Miranda, considering her father, and fucking Cerberus.

Evening turned into late night. A sleepless night turned into a miserable morning. She checked messages every ten minutes, in utter futility, all day long. There was nothing.

In late afternoon she tried to go over student data on her pad. The sadness that fell upon her was unrelenting, merciless. She lay motionless on the floor for some time, then got up and paced back and forth across the apartment.

She began to feel foolish. Miranda was going to walk through the door, late, because of some emergency, and Jack was going to look like some desperate, confused teenage girl—like one of the orphans in her classroom. Yea, Lawson was going to love this, having Jack wrapped around her finger like a puppet. They'd both laugh about it, and then work it out between the sheets.

The door chimed an hour later. Jack bolted across the room to answer it. When she opened the door, a courier greeted her. He carried a data tablet, tapped it to sync with Jack's, released the message upon her acknowledgement and left. Jack took a deep breath and read the message.

 _Jack,_

 _I needed some time to think about where we are going, so I took a new assignment. I'll be gone for a while. It will be weeks, probably months before I see you again. I know you'll be angry with me, but you can bark at me when I get back._

 _Love, Miri_

Jack's heart stopped. Weeks, months? That wasn't right, who did that? Weeks and months meant never. This was a breakup letter, a chicken-shit one at that. It was like some sick joke. She'd been played by a master. Hurling her data pad against the wall, Jack screamed. There was no way to respond to the message, no return address of course.

She shouted at the walls. "You'd better not come back, Miranda Lawson, not ever!"

Tears rolled out of her eyes, snot flew from her nose. "If I ever see you again, I'll fucking kill you, you heartless, Cerberus cheerleader bitch!"

She ranted for an hour, nearly tearing her apartment apart with her biotics. She ripped out the bedsheets, collected all the food Miranda made, and stuffed it all into the trash chute. Finally, she collapsed from exhaustion and began to weep inconsolably.

She should never have said it… _mine_. It was a stupid word. When was she ever going to learn?

* * *

 **Up Next:** S _usan, Garrus, Wrex, and the rest of the Normandy take a detour on the way to Tuchanka.  
_


	21. The Deep Dark

" _I have seen the dark universe yawning  
Where the black planets roll without aim,  
Where they roll in their horror unheeded,  
Without knowledge, or lustre, or name."_  
H.P. Lovecraft

December 19th, 2187

 **Lt. Commander Susan Rizzi: Executive Officer, Normandy SR-2**

* * *

The port observatory doors slid open and Susan stepped through. General Vakarian, drink in his hand, was staring out the window, apparently lost in thought. He chuckled to himself, looked down into his glass, and swished the contents about before he drank it down.

"She let me win," he mumbled.

"Sir?" said Susan.

"Sorry, Commander," said the General. "I was… lost in a memory."

"Care to elaborate?" asked Susan.

Vakarian laughed. "Everything on this damn ship runs on Earth time. All the logs give Earth dates. Cerberus saw to that when they built it, and the Alliance never thought to change it. It's taken awhile, but I'm adjusting to it, especially since I've been going through Shepard's old personal logs. She made notes every morning and evening. Liara passed a copy of them on to me for some reason. I didn't touch them for a while, but, ah, well, I don't have to explain the tedium of this trip to you, Rizzi. Anything to pass the time, right?"

Susan snorted. "I'm envious of you, General. I wish I had old logs to go through."

Vakarian sighed. "It's been bad, hasn't it?"

"The situation isn't good," said Susan. "I'm surprised Aznir Company hasn't managed to chew through the Normandy's hull. They're on edge. Krogan aren't meant for small places for too long. They need to get out. All of us could use some solid ground, a little sky above us—even the old spacers. Yesterday, Joker told me he was bored with porn."

Vakarian shook his head. "Well, now I'm officially worried."

Susan laughed at the dry joke. She'd learned to always laugh at the jokes of superior officers, but with Vakarian it wasn't a chore at all. The Turian had a great sense of humor, and an even better sense of timing. He was also personable enough to allow his officers to do a little digging here and there on personal matters if the situation called for it. She read his commentary as just such an opportunity, and she took it.

"About those logs, what sparked the memory you were lost in?" she asked.

The General clicked his omni-tool and a woman's voice spoke. Susan recognized it as Commander Shepard almost immediately. She had watched all the interview vids a dozen times over.

" _December nineteen, zero eight hundred. I didn't sleep well again last night. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to get a good night's sleep again. Well, no sense in crying about it. I've got a list of things to do today. . Got a note from Miranda—going to have to track her down. Looking forward to seeing her, but she sounded desperate. I hope I can help. After that more meetings—endless meetings._

 _Some C-Sec officer named Noles has been buzzing me—something about illegal Batarian diplomatic codes. Today, of all days, I would rather not have to deal with anything involving Batarians. It's my brother's birthday today, or would have been. He would have been thirty years old today—fucking Batarians. Ah, there I go again, the old me coming out. One step forward, two steps back._

 _On the bright side, there's two highlights on my schedule. I've got Ash back on the Normandy, damn that feels good. Best of all, I have a playdate with Garrus. I wonder what he has lined up. Guessing that we don't have enough time to get good and drunk today, a damn shame, still looking forward to just hanging out, taking some time. I get so little of it these days._

 _Thinking about my brother again; when we were kids, Turians were still thought of as alien invaders, the enemy. We used to pretend to be soldiers in the First Contact war, my brother, sisters, and I, and the other kids. Johnny always wanted to play the Turian. We used to tease him about it. Everyone else feared or hated Turians, but my brother? He was fascinated by them. He learned everything about their culture, and knew all their weapons and ships._

 _I can't help but wonder what it would have been like to introduce him to Garrus. The strangest thing is, I think Garrus is more like Johnny than anyone else I've ever met in my life. What was it that dad used to say? The universe taketh away, the universe giveth. My brother is gone, but I have a best friend who is just like him, except he's an actual Turian instead of a human pretending to be one. It's the little things that keep me going, keep me believing._

 _One final note—still trying to work out the proper way to propose marriage to an Asari, but I can't do an extranet search without EDI finding out. It's not a good time to bring this to Ereba, and no way in hell do I want to ask Aria or Tevos. Dammit, I wish Samara were here."_

Garrus silenced the omni-tool, sighing deeply. "Spirits, I miss her—more and more every day that passes. It feels like there's a hole in me, Rizzi, a hole that I'll never be able to fill again. I suppose it's going to take some time before it finally goes away."

It was a rare moment of candor, even for an officer as personable as Vakarian. It also hit home for her. Susan decided to drop her walls for once.

"It won't ever go away," said Susan. "Not when it's someone who made your world brighter. I lost my father as a teenager. It was especially difficult considering my circumstances."

"You've touched on this before," said the General. "But you never told me how he died."

"Killed in an armed robbery," said Susan.

Vakarian was intrigued. "He was a law officer?"

Susan shook her head. "No, a criminal."

The General shifted his stance uncomfortably.

"We were poor," explained Susan. "My mother was exposed to element zero when I was in the womb, heavy dosage. It eventually killed her. I didn't fare much better—cancer of the brain. The standard medical procedures didn't offer much hope, so my father broke rules to get the credits for advanced treatments. He became a criminal. At first it was schemes, long cons, but as I got older the treatments became more expensive and his crimes became more serious.

He never targeted the poor, or what he considered good people, but that made it more dangerous. He stole from red sand dealers, from money launderers, and eventually attracted the attention of a crime boss. They set him up. I was sick again, and he needed a big score. He walked into a trap. It wasn't a good death. They made it last, even recorded it on vid and circulated it on the dark corners of the extranet as a warning.

It was such a gruesome death that it attracted the attention of a high ranking police officer who learned about my plight and discovered I was a strong biotic. He passed the info along to his friend, an Alliance Admiral named Marco Silva. My father died thinking he failed me, but he didn't. His actions are the reason I'm still alive. The Alliance took over my medical care, and here I am."

"Spirits, Rizzi, that's a hell of a story," said General Vakarian.

"I keep him close, honor him with my life," she said. "Always get the job done, even if the work is dirty. That's what he used to tell me."

"An interesting philosophy," said Vakarian. "Very human, I suppose."

"Turian military doctrine isn't that different," observed Susan. "You don't question orders, you do what you're told."

Vakarian nodded. "Yes, though, truth be told I've never been a particularly good Turian. I have a habit of questioning orders."

Susan had come to that understanding only a few weeks into the mission. Perhaps that's why Hackett had assigned her to the Normandy, to ensure that Vakarian fulfilled his orders, as unpalatable as they might be. She hoped that the Turian could uphold his end of the bargain. She wouldn't like it if she had to put him down, and it wouldn't be easy either.

Susan put the thought aside. "Sir, not to change the subject, but why did you ask me here?"

"Ah, business at hand," said Vakarian. "Have you noticed that we are off course?"

"Yes, Sir," said Susan. "Nearly a hundred light years off course by my last calculation. I assume we are avoiding the S'eryan Star Cluster?"

"No, we are not avoiding, we diverted to the Kesh Star Cluster," explained the General.

Susan remembered the name. "Didn't that have something to do with the Krogan Rebellions?"

Vakarian nodded. "Yes, but long before the Rebellions there were old rumors, stories that the Kesh Star Cluster contained a Mass Relay. A team of Salarians went in search of it once and never came back. For some time it was nearly as much of an enigma as the Omega Relay, but when the Rachni War broke out, all notions of looking for new relays were abandoned."

"A reasonable decision," said Susan.

Vakarian continued. "During the height of the war, the Krogan were pressing us back on all fronts. Intelligence came in that they were looking for the Kesh Relay. They sent a significant scout fleet out into deep space to find it. At the time we didn't have the resources to spare, so we dispatched just a few ships ourselves, hoping that we could reach the relay before them. Thing is, none of those ships reported back, neither ours, nor the Krogan fleet.

In the wake of the Genophage and the end of the war, they were all but forgotten. A few ships set out to that area of space from time to time, but none ever returned. Ships go missing all over the galaxy, so no priority was ever given to Kesh in particular. So, I bet you are wondering why we are out here?"

"Yes, Sir," said Susan. "It doesn't seem important considering our primary mission."

The General agreed. "True, but when we were fueling a few days ago something extraordinary happened. You were bunked down at the time, but our com expert picked up an old signal."

"From the lost Krogan ships?" asked Susan.

"No," said Vakarian. "Something older than that. In the early days of Asari space exploration, there were twenty-eight matriarchs that went out into deep space, a sort of pilgrimage if you will. They were obsessed with obtaining ultimate knowledge. Only six of the matriarchs ever returned. Of the other twenty-two, only the ship and remains of Matriarch Dilinaga were found, until now."

Susan was intrigued. "A beacon of some sort?"

"Yes," said General Vakarian. "It's an old radio signal, so we're lucky we picked it up at all, but Specialist Sachs is damn near as capable as Traynor. He was scanning the last system we were refueling at and he picked up some background noise. He ran it through the ships VI. An inverse square calculation with a gamma filter logarithm determined the signal strength and origin. It was a three hundred thousand watt signal, just over four hundred seventy-three light years distance.

Sachs matched it to an Asari ship named the Andan-Taril'shar, which was a deep space explorer commanded by Matriarch Amosa. It was pure luck, really, that we picked up the signal. We're near the origin system now, but it's no longer broadcasting. It probably hasn't been for several centuries."

"So we caught the tail end of its broadcast wave, lucky us. Still, Sir, why have we gone off course for this? These are not our orders," said Susan.

"It's only x minus fifty-four and z minus ninety-six off our travel path—just under four days. As a Council Spectre, I'm allowed a total a deviation of ten standard days for anything I feel is important, and I'm required by interstellar law to divert to any category one coordinates within the same range," explained Vakarian.

"I imagine the Council considers lost matriarchs category one," said Susan.

"Exactly," said the General.

"How is Wrex handling this?" asked Susan.

General Vakarian snorted. "Much better than I expected. He was damn near enthusiastic. He's hoping that finding this Asari ship will help solve the mystery of the missing Krogan fleet as well, or at least give us a clue. In his best case scenario, he finds a lost Krogan colony."

"One that would never have been exposed to the Genophage," said Susan. "There could be billions of hostile Krogan in this cluster."

The General shook his head. "Unlikely, we would have seen something by now, or picked up a signal. The only thing that Sachs has discovered is a series of frequencies at the hydrogen line, perhaps some primitive society searching for life out there for the past few centuries."

"Well, they couldn't have picked a worse time to broadcast," said Susan. "If it was an alien race, the Reapers would have picked up that signal and determined they were advanced enough to harvest."

Vakarian sighed. "You're a morbid person, Rizzi, but you're probably right. In fact, it's my suspicion that there's a Reaper stronghold out here, something similar to the Collector Base we found at the center of the galaxy. It's the most likely explanation for all the missing ships."

"The thought had occurred to me, but if there is a relay, then they would have been hit by the Destruction Virus as well," said Susan. "If there isn't a relay, then we could have a Reaper stronghold that survived the war. That is not a good thing."

"Which means, it could start all over again," said the General. "Another reason we should investigate. Have your team ready by 0600, Rizzi. I've already informed Lieutenant Sallikus of the same. Wrex has put Aznir Company on standby as well. We'll draw lots for priority designations.

"Yes, Sir," said Rizzi. "Finally, some action."

"Spirits, this is nothing to be enthused about, Commander," said Vakarian.

"Sorry, Sir, anything at all to break this monotony, even a stranded Reaper," said Susan.

"Dismissed," said the General.

Susan made her exit. Just before the door closed, she thought she heard Vakarian curse at her under his breath.

* * *

The eezo core on the Kodiak shuttle throbbed with a familiar resonance as it slipped ever closer to their destination. Susan was looking over the deck plans of the ancient Asari vessel while her team worked out their nervous energy on each other. Lieutenant Ito, who had proven herself to be a competent if not inspired shuttle pilot, was at the helm. They were running in stealth as a mere precaution. Judging from the early scans, the Andan-Taril'shar's eezo core and fusion reactor had been offline for centuries.

Most peculiar though, at least in Susan's mind, was the complete lack of eezo readings. The ship's core might have been ejected into space following an accident, still, there should be some traces of it in the star system. There were six planets in the uncharted system. The crew of the Normandy—Human, Turian, and Krogan, were arguing over what to name the star and the planets. Susan had a notion that the Krogan would win out, especially if Aznir Company confirmed that the abandoned structures on the second planet were indeed Krogan in origin.

"Did you see the look on his face? Sallikus was pissed," said Biggs.

"Can't blame him," said Farrell. "An Asari ship, lost for thousands of years, and humans, not Turians, will be the first to step foot on it."

"I'm just glad that Wurn and the rest of the Krogan are going planet-side. They need to let off some steam man, they were getting freaky as hell. I thought one of their warriors was going to eat Snow White yesterday," said Biggs.

"Can you blame them?" wondered Farrell. "I mean, look at her, she's so tasty!"

Baclanova shot Farrell a faux angry glance. "Zhatknis blyat!"

"Sorry, Snow White," said Farrell. "My translator is set to filter out harsh language, and I don't know Russian."

"Flag, Tank, that's enough," said Lieutenant James. "You've had months to pick on the rook, no more. Time to get serious. This is our first real mission as a team. We need each other's backs in there. You've all seen the old vids, ancient derelict alien ship, squad of marines, and two of us in red gear."

"Shit, redshirts! Flag and Snow White are totally fucked," said Chun.

"Vat is red shirt?" asked Baclanova.

Susan had yet to figure out if Baclanova's Russian accent was authentically thick, or the Lance Corporal was just laying it on for an extra sexy effect. One thing was for certain, she knew how to play the boys as well as Maggie Chun, the other woman in her squad. She'd been working them for months. She was even getting to Lieutenant James. Susan was keeping an eye on the situation. No lines had been crossed yet, but she didn't like Baclanova's game.

Biggs bit into the Russian woman's question with zeal. "You know, lasers on stun, beam me up Spock! It's that Star Wars shit, late nineteenth century science fiction."

Chun started laughing. "You don't know shit, Tank. Star Wars was twentieth century, not nineteenth. There was no science fiction in the nineteenth century. Also, it's phasers, not lasers."

"What the fuck is a phaser?" asked Biggs.

Lieutenant James shook his head. "Who knows, and Chief, you're wrong. There actually was science-fiction in the nineteenth century. Ever heard of H.G. Wells or Jules Verne?"

"And you say I don't know shit, Wind," said Biggs. "Even I know about Verne. Twenty thousand fucking leagues man—giant squids and shit!"

Farrell laughed. "I saw some giant squids on an Asari dancer one time, they were huuuuuge!"

Chun ignored Farrell's joke and went after Biggs. "You bèndàn, how am I supposed to know every old white man from the west? Have you ever heard of Zheng Wenguang?"

"Who the hell is that?" asked Biggs.

"My point exactly, smart ass," said Chun.

The shuttle gave a slight bump, indicating that they had aligned with the old airlock. Lieutenant Ito waved back at Susan.

"I can't get a seal, so I'll have to hold position with docking thrusters. You'll need to move fast. This big old Asari bitch is really spinning, and you never know what it might hit out here. There's meteors everywhere and it's already beat to hell. I'd rather not get kicked by the thing."

"Ok, team, enough with the bullshit," said Susan. "Button up, coms on, double time through the hatch on my mark. And guys, be careful. We've got breaches everywhere, don't fall out."

A serious mood took over the team as soon as the last word came out of Susan's mouth. They went in by the numbers. Soon, all six of them were on the Asari ship.

"In the belly of the whale, Ito," said Susan.

The com crackled. " _Ok, Commander, bugging out. I'll be on standby just a few clicks off."_

James took point. He lit up his shotgun torch, illuminating the passageway ahead. He gave a signal and the rest of the team turned their torches on as well. James moved forward, Chun followed close behind. Their mag boots were silent as they picked their way through the debris-strewn airlock. Soon, they stood in an old corridor than ran forward and aft along the starboard side of the ship.

"Ok," said Susan. "Sticking to the plan. Flag and Snow White are with me. We'll make our way to the bridge and the Captain's Quarters to grab the data. Striker, take Wind and Tank, find Engineering and the Cargo Bays. Watch for breaches, keep your armor clean of debris, and watch for floating reactor coolant. You get a gob of that shit on you, we'll have to peel your armor off and float you in a decon pod for a week. Also, as we get to our destinations, the rotation will create gravity. Try not to fall on your asses, please."

"Ok, moving out," said James. "See you on the flip side, Commander."

"I see what you did there," said Chun. "Flip side, very clever."

"Secure the bullshit, Wind," said Susan. "Coms are open channel to the Normandy."

"Hey ho out there, General Birdman, SIR!" said Biggs.

"Shut it, Tank," said Susan. "Move out, people."

Susan's team made their way forward, carefully picking their way through the damaged corridor. They passed several closed doors, avoiding the temptation to take a peek inside. From what she had gathered from the plans, both doors they passed led to the Galley and the Mess Hall. The instrument room would be the next door.

"Fucking freaky in here," said Farrell.

"I hear you, Flag, but you should see this shit," said Biggs. "We found an Asari space mummy down here, and there's something really weird about it, man. You are NOT going to like this."

"What's going on, Striker?" asked Susan.

"Tank is dead on," said Lieutenant James. "We have an Asari in a closet, she's been dead for centuries, but what's peculiar as hell, is that she's in some sort of cocoon."

"Did ancient Asari weave cocoons?" asked Chun.

"That don't look like no cocoon to me," said Biggs. "It looks like a fucking spider web. Holy shit, I'm officially freaking out. Some big space spider wrapped her up in webs and sucked her dry man, her corpse is all shriveled up."

Biggs made a slurping and a screeching noise for effect.

"Knock that shit off, Tank!" said Chun. "I really don't need that image in my head. I'm going to have to run tests on these, I imagine."

"Roger on that, Wind," said Susan. "I need to know how she died, or where they died if you can find more."

"Commander," interrupted Baclanova. "You should see."

The engineer pointed her torch at a bulkhead. The scars of small weapons fire were evident, and a lot of it. Further up the corridor, Farrell was poking at some discarded weapons.

"Ancient Asari stuff," he said. "They're similar to Disciples, but cruder, bulkier. Looks like they used a liquid nitrogen cooling system."

"FFC's," said Susan. "We used to use them on particle weapons about a hundred years ago."

"What is FFC?" asked Baclanova.

"Flash Freeze Canisters," said Farrell. "Pressured canisters that docked onto hand held particle canons. They'd flood the heat sinks with liquid nitrogen. It wasn't very efficient—couldn't sustain fire for long that way."

"And the whole cooling system was heavy as hell," said Susan. "But that's beside the point, what the hell were these Asari firing at?"

"Shit, Commander, you won't believe this," said Lieutenant James. "The whole engineering compartment is full of bodies. Looks like half the crew of the ship was back here."

"And they're all fucking webbed up man, this is some seriously creepy shit," said Biggs.

"Settle down," said Farrell. "It's probably Rachni, and they're on our side now, remember?"

"Wind, can you examine the corpses and tell me if it's an early Rachni encounter?" asked Susan.

"I can examine the corpses, Ma'am," said Chun. "But I can already tell you it's not Rachni. The webs were a Reaper mutation, like the Banshee screams, or the cannibalism of the Batarian husks. Rachni in their natural state don't use webbing."

"Well, maybe the Reapers fucked with them a thousand years back or so," said Biggs.

"There's no record of it," said Chun.

"Just examine the corpses and tell me what we have," said Susan. "I'm taking my team to the bridge."

As Susan moved forward, the plane of gravity shifted. She soon found herself climbing down a vertical passageway. Baclanova and Farrell followed. The structure was not as sound, in fact the climb was quite precarious. It took them nearly an hour to reach the command center of the ship, which was empty, save for several smashed consoles.

"Ok, Snow White, you're on. Find whatever passes for a black box on this thing, and let's get out of here. This whole place feels like it's going to fall apart at any moment," said Susan.

"Yes, Ma'am," said Baclanova.

"Commander," said Chun. "I think I know what happened down here in Engineering. Are you read to hear this?"

"Save the dramatics and just tell me," said Susan.

"These Asari were all dragged here," said Chun. "There are indications of toxins in their systems, so they were poisoned, then brought to this place, which was warmer than the rest of the ship, and then they were drained."

Susan struggled to understand. "Drained?"

"As in blood," said Chun. "Their organs, bone, skin, it's all there still, but the blood was drained from their bodies. I believe we are dealing with a hematophagous species."

"What the fuck is hema… whatever?" said Biggs.

"It means they feed on blood, like some earth insects or larva," said Chun.

"Like mosquitoes," said Farrell.

"Or like vampires," said Biggs. "Man, first coffin I see, I'm going to blow it to hell."

"Settle down, Biggs," said James. "There are no vampires in space, or anywhere else for that matter."

"Yea, just like we believed there were no zombies, until our whole fucking planet was crawling with them," said Biggs.

"Those were husks, made by advanced technology. They weren't undead," explained Chun.

"What fucking difference does it make?" said Biggs. "They looked like zombies, sounded like zombies, and in a way, they did eat our brains with all that indoctrination bullshit. We had a great big zombie apocalypse on earth, just like all those old vids. I'm telling you man, it's like every fucking nightmare or scary story you've ever heard—it's all out here in the universe somewhere."

Farrell laughed. "So we should be looking for bats, wolves, and clouds of mist, right Tank?"

Susan was about to respond, when a call came in from the Normandy.

" _Commander, this is General Vakarian. Aznir Company found dozens of Krogan bodies in the same condition down on the planet. Until we know what we're dealing with, I'd rather not take chances. I'd like you to get your people out of there, so wrap it up._ "

"Yes, Sir," said Susan.

"You heard the General, let's move out, people."

"You don't have to tell me twice," said Biggs. "Fucking space vampires, man, this is not good."

"I wouldn't worry too much," said Farrell. "If these things feed on blood, it means they're alive. If they're alive, we can shoot them."

"There's that," said James.

"Asari tried to shoot them," said Baclanova. "Did not seem to work."

"This happened thousands of years ago," said Susan. "I doubt whatever did this is still around."

What she said made sense to her, and hopefully to the rest of the squad. Even so, Susan kept her hand near her pistol as they slowly made way out of the Andan-Taril'shar.

* * *

 **Up Next:** _Jack meets up with an old crew-mate who is even more broken than she is._


	22. Bullet in the Chamber

_Apologies for the long absence. Illness hit hard this fall, but I'm back at it on all fronts. My fantasy novels set in my own world come first, of course, but I will definitely try to keep Reaper Dreams on a weekly update basis. Anyway, this current chapter kinda suits my mood at the moment. **Updated: Made some corrections, but I am still having trouble with this particular formatting. I guess strikethroughs aren't allowed.**  
_

* * *

" _There's nothing wrong with her except she's completely fucked up."_

Gary Shteyngart

December 24th, 2187

 **Subject Zero**

* * *

Jack stared at the small box on the table. The last few days had been a blur. She hadn't left her trashed apartment for fear that she might get in trouble again. Her first visit to the bar had been a disaster. She'd nearly killed a man before Gargarin Station Security had intervened. The poor security guards nearly pissed themselves while they drew weapons on Jack and asked her to stand down. They knew who she was, knew her rep, and understood that she could have torn them apart if she wanted to, but Jack stood down, let herself get taken into custody.

They'd released her after just a few hours in the tank—no harm no foul. She was a big war hero after all. The bitch of it was that Kahlee would have heard about it by now and when she returned from vacation Jack was going to be in deep shit. Worst thing about it? She didn't fucking care. She wanted out. It was time to get out. This wasn't working, this normal life that most people have, it wasn't for her. She'd been kidding herself all along.

She was tearing apart her apartment when she'd found the box. It was in a container that held all the spices that Miranda had used for preparing the meal. If Jack hadn't looked in the container before tossing it in the trash, she wouldn't have spotted the one thing that didn't belong.

A piece of synthetic paper was attached to the box with a magnetic clip. The paper looked as if it was torn off a pad that Jack had seen Miranda write on from time to time. It was one of Miranda's little eccentricities that Jack had come to appreciate. She liked to write on paper with a stipple pen. Jack hadn't read it yet or opened the box. She was debating whether it was worth it or not.

"Fuck it," she said aloud.

She pulled the paper away and unfolded it. Several notes were scribbled on it, some were crossed out or blacked out. Jack read through the notes.

 _Things to say:_

 _Xx xxxx xxx xxxx?  
_

 _X xxxxx Xx xx xxxx xxxx xxx._

 _I want to be a bigger part of your life. (maybe, but sounds needy)  
_

 _I know I'm a severe person, a bit too serious, but I think I want a normal life and for you to be a part of it._ _Do you think we can ever be normal, especially together?_ _I'd like to try. I've never been good with attachments, but maybe this is a good way to start._

 _(not terrible, but needs improvement, perhaps more of a personal touch? Try not to make it sound like a speech.)_

"What the hell is this?" Jack muttered.

Jack opened the box carefully. Within it was a platinum bracelet studded with a pattern of small rubies on the outside. Rubies were her favorite gemstone, but nobody knew this about her. It was something she had never brought up, not to anyone. How the fuck? Examining the bracelet further, she found that the inside was engraved with a single word: courage. Jack knew enough about jewelry from her years as an outlaw to recognize how expensive a gift this was.

She tried it on without thinking. It was sized perfectly for her wrist. A lot of thought and credits went into this gift. Apparently Miranda had agonized over what to say to her when she presented it. Nothing about this made sense, nothing at all. Why do all this and just leave?

Her apartment intercom buzzed. It was security again.

"I thought I was in the clear," she said.

It was a man. "Uh, this is Officer Pacelli. It isn't about you, Ms. Nought. We picked up a woman in the lounge for solicitation. When we questioned her about what she was doing on Gargarin Station it came up that she knows you."

Jack frowned. "I don't know any fucking prostitutes, at least not lately."

"I see," said Pacelli. "Does the name Felicia Hannigan mean anything to you?"

"Shit," said Jack. "You're kidding me."

"Uh, no ma'am," said Pacelli. "So you know her?"

"Yea," said Jack. "I can vouch for her. What's her bail?"

Pacelli sighed. "We haven't really set it. To be honest, I feel sorry for her. The lady is a real mess. I don't want to release her unless I know someone is keeping an eye out."

"I'll take care of it. I'll be there in a few," said Jack.

' _What the fuck is going on?_ ' thought Jack.

As she was headed for the door she stopped in her tracks, realizing that she wasn't wearing anything but a ratty pair of skivvies. How long had it been since she last dressed or showered? She lifted one of her arms and sniffed.

Jack gagged. "Whoa, you are one rank bitch!"

She ditched the underwear in the laundry chute and hit the showers immediately. As she was scrubbing the grime off herself, her mind immediately jumped to the last time she was in the shower. If she closed her eyes she could see Miranda, naked and wet. She could feel their soapy bodies sliding against each as the hot water poured over them. The sensations were strong, the memory so vivid she half expected to open her eyes and… no, Jack couldn't bear to be disappointed, so she kept them shut and re-lived the memory again and again.

Jack realized she'd been with a lot of people in her lifetime—men, women, even aliens. Often it was because someone wanted something from her. Sometimes she sold herself for a favor or quick cash. She'd been raped as well—all part of the life she'd led. The rest of the time she'd just done it because she was bored. She wanted to feel something, anything. Only once did she value the person she was with. At the time she thought it might have been love, she'd even intimated as much to Shepard, but now she wasn't so sure. Did she love him, or did she feel guilty because he died looking out for her?

Maybe it was love of a type, but it was nothing like being with Miranda. What she felt like when she was with Miranda couldn't compare to anything else she'd known, not even narcotics, or red sand, or the way she felt when she killed someone who really had it coming. Being with Miranda was the best thing she'd ever experienced. Jack felt like some emaciated drifter who'd been pulled out of the soup line and wined and dined at the galaxy's best table. After all of that, she couldn't handle going back to starvation.

Miranda was on the same page. Jack sensed it, knew that her lover wasn't faking a single note, so what happened? Nothing was adding up. It all felt… wrong.

The first few days after she read the letter Jack had fallen into a hole. She'd just accepted it as something that always happened to her. She wasn't accustomed to having anything or feeling like she deserved anything, so it all made sense that she didn't get to keep miss perfect, but that was bullshit thinking wasn't it? That's what Shepard would've called it. Shepard taught Jack to believe that she deserved good things in her life.

What was between her and Miranda was so good because it _was_ right, it was something that she'd earned by working through her shit and making a better life for herself. Even Miranda had said so, way back before they'd both turned the corner, back when Miranda was shedding the cheerleader gig, ceasing to be the arrogant Cerberus bitch, and Jack was learning how to be accountable and responsible.

Jack was worthy of all the good things she'd recently received, especially Miranda. She wasn't going to let the old demons shit all over it and convince her that she was better off alone and angry. She didn't want to be that person anymore. She wasn't a psychotic biotic, she was a damaged young woman trying to heal herself. Jack wanted respect, love, and everything that came with it. She deserved it, and for that matter so did Miranda.

Was that it? Had Miranda put herself in a bad place and let the past get to her, just as Jack had done for the last several days? Had she convinced herself that she didn't deserve to be happy? Had she done something stupid, gotten herself in trouble with the Alliance, put herself in a bind, or fucked up in some way? Maybe she was trying to protect Jack. It had to be something like that, something that made sense.

' _Faith,_ ' that's what Shepard would say. ' _If you have something good, believe in it, fight for it. Do whatever it takes to keep it—even if that means letting it go awhile._ '

Jack pressed her head against the wall and let the hot water roll down her back. Again, the vivid memory of that night rolled over her. She could feel Miranda's clever fingers finding every vulnerable spot on her body, that freakishly agile tongue tickling the roof of her mouth, that round, perfect ass grinding into her pelvis, and those soft, fantastic tits slipping across her soapy back.

She opened her eyes and whispered into the billows of steam. "I want you back."

Jack snapped back to reality, shut off the shower, toweled and dressed. She felt human again. She was back in charge and ready to deal with someone else's bullshit for a change. Maneuvering her way through the disaster zone she'd created, Jack was out the door and on her way.

She reached security fifteen minutes later. Pacelli was at his desk talking with another officer. A familiar woman stood nearby, sulking. As soon as she saw Jack, she stood up a little straighter and tried to collect herself. Kelly Chambers was a shadow of the woman she used to be. She looked, _damaged_ , for lack of a better word.

"Ms. Nought, I was beginning to worry," said Pacelli.

"Sorry, running a little behind," said Jack.

"You look better," said Pacelli.

"You know, moving through a rough patch and all that shit. Hey, thanks for being cool with me the other day," said Jack.

"We've all been there, Ms. Nought. Speaking of, I'm releasing Ms. Hannigan into your custody. I want her to stay out of the bars, and eventually to find her way off this station as soon as an opportunity presents itself. Tomorrow morning would be good," he suggested.

"Got it," said Jack. "I'll lock her up in my apartment until then."

Jack led her associate out of security and down the corridor towards her place. Kelly was quiet for the first part of the way. They hadn't talked since shortly after the war, and then only in exchanged emails. It was all about Eezo of course, the biotic pet varren that Jack had left with her. She'd told Kelly that he was there to protect her from Cerberus. The truth was that Jack was hard up at the time for a place to put him and Chambers was the only person she knew on the Citadel. It had turned out to be a good move. Kelly and that varren had saved a bunch of kid's lives.

Finally Kelly spoke up. "I appreciate this."

"You won't be appreciative when you see my place," said Jack. "You'll be wishing I'd left you in your fucking cell."

When they finally reached the apartment Jack busied herself cleaning up as best she could. Kelly helped. They didn't speak while they worked. Jack didn't want to press. She figured that it would come up sooner or later anyway, and she wasn't sure if she was ready for the sad story. It was always a sad story.

Jack poured the both of them a drink and they sat down at the small table. The box was still there, as well as the note. Kelly was staring at it. Jack snatched it off the table and stuffed it into one of her pockets, but it was too late. The former Normandy yeoman had already recognized the writing.

Kelly looked around the room. "I've heard rumors that you were spending time with Miranda, but I doubt she'd set foot in a place like this."

"When she was staying here, I used to keep it cleaner," said Jack.

"I see," said Kelly. "But she's not anymore. You want to talk about it?"

Jack went straight the point. "As soon as you tell me why you were turning tricks in the bar. You're better than that."

Kelly laughed. "Not anymore. You don't realize how lucky you are, living out here away from Earth."

"You should be out here too then, helping kids," said Jack. "Like you did on the Citadel. Shit, Chambers, you're a fucking war hero."

"Eezo was the war hero," said Kelly. "I just hid while he protected us."

"Not everyone can fight," said Jack. "You got those kids to safety."

Kelly stared at Jack. Her face was gaunt. There were black circles under her eyes, lines creasing her forehead and temples. She looked desperate, old past her years. Her eyes watered, and then finally began to drip tears.

"I only saved a few," she said. "A lot more died. I could hear them screaming when the Reapers took them. A lot of them they killed on the spot, ripped them apart. Some of the Batarian husks…"

Kelly broke down in sobs and lost her composure for a moment.

Finally she got it out. "They at them alive, Jack, they were feeding on them while they were still alive. My God, I thought that nothing could be worse than the Collector base, but I was wrong, so wrong. What kind of monsters would do that to children? And the Illusive Man wanted to control them? Tried to convince Shepard to save them and use them for humanity? I can't believe I was ever a part of that Cerberus monstrosity."

"Pretty fucked up," said Jack. "I saw similar things down on Earth. It was a real nightmare. I didn't think we were going to make it."

Kelly was hovering near hysteria. "But Shepard did it, didn't she? Saved us all, sacrificed herself in the process. It was always going to end that way, wasn't it?"

Jack could see that Chambers was fucked up beyond anything she was going to be able to deal with. There was no fixing this shit. She was broken. Best she could do was make her feel a little better.

"Shepard wouldn't think that way, she would say that nothing is certain," said Jack.

"That's not you," said Kelly. "You've been through it, you know better."

"I'm choosing a better life, trying on this optimism bullshit," said Jack.

Kelly laughed. "No you aren't, you're bargaining. I can tell."

Jack glared at the woman sitting across the table. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Look at this place," said Kelly. "You tore it apart in a rage. Now you seem to be over it, pretending to be a new person, acting like Shepard because you think that will be the thing that gets you what you want—that's bargaining. It's the third stage of grief."

"What the hell do you know about it?" said Jack. "I bail you out of jail for renting yourself out, and you come into my place acting like you know what's what in my life? Fuck you!"

Kelly almost smiled. "That's the Jack I know. Listen, just stay true to yourself, ok? Don't try to be Shepard, just let it go. Let her go. If Miranda broke it off with you, she isn't coming back. I knew her, once she made a decision that was it."

Jack tried to hold her anger with mixed results. "How can you even know what's going on? You think you can talk to me for a few minutes, look at my place and figure it all out? Fuck you with all this psychobabble. You don't know Miranda, you don't know me, and you didn't know Shepard. You were just some pretty face the Illusive Man set up, you know, someone to spy on us all and keep Cerberus looking all bright and friendly."

Kelly giggled. There was a near hysterical edge to it. Her eyes welled with tears, but her face held madness rather than sorrow.

She stared into her drink. "I can't deny it, it's true. I was supposed to get close to Shepard, that was my primary job, and I did it well. I got close, Jack, real close. That's my problem. More than anything else that's happened to me, being that close to her? Convincing myself I could have something with her? That's what opened up the hole in me, why I can't get past the nightmares. She was never going to choose me, it was always going to be Liara. I was just there as a distraction, a warm body, someone to work off her stress with. It was just sex for her. She used me."

"Get over yourself," said Jack. "From what I saw, you were on her every single day like a wet shirt. So what? She broke down and gave you what you wanted one time, and now you're pissed off about it? Most of the galaxy would line up to be in your place."

"Because they don't know," said Kelly.

Jack sighed. "Did she slap you around or something? Was she a bad lay? What don't they know, and why are you acting so fucking crazy?"

"The problem is, it was everything I'd hoped," said Kelly. "It's like, well, once you are with her, that's it. It's perfect. She was perfect. Nothing else is ever going to compare. You know what I'm talking about, Jack. Once you are with that person, that one thing you've really needed all your life, and then it's taken away—that's the worst feeling."

Kelly leaned back in her chair, the light in her eyes flickering as she stared up at the slow spinning ventilation fan. The effect made her look crazier than ever. When she spoke again her tone was soaked in longing, wrung with regret.

"I imagine this is what it's like to be one of those low end biotics, the ones who don't even have enough to power an amp, so they boost themselves. They get one taste of red sand and they are addicts for life. They need it, they can't live without it, because it's the only thing that completes them. They'll never be a real biotic without the sand," she said.

Jack scowled. "Speak for yourself. I don't have it that bad."

"Then let her go," said Kelly. "If you can get her out of your head, let her go."

"Yea," said Jack. "We'll see."

"Promise me," said Kelly. "If she doesn't come back, let it go."

"Why is this so fucking important to you?" asked Jack.

"I don't want you to end up…" she changed her tone abruptly. "Just focus on the kids. Promise me that, do your job, find happiness in that."

"Ok," said Jack. "Conversation is over. You're not making sense. You need something to help you sleep? You can have the bed, I'll take the floor."

Kelly's hands trembled. "Sleep with me."

Jack stared at her blankly.

"Not that," said Kelly. "Just next to me, please. I don't want to be alone, especially not tonight. I can't sleep alone anymore. The nightmares…"

The desperation in her voice got to Jack despite her better judgement.

"Ok, Kelly, sure, whatever you want. Just… keep your hands to yourself."

Jack cleaned up the apartment some more while Chambers grabbed a shower. When she emerged she asked Jack to put on a vid, something Asari. Jack found it in the station's library easily enough. It was a comedy, Asari comedy wasn't really to Jack's taste, but it finally brought something of a smile to Kelly's face. Apparently it was one of her favorites.

Remembering Pacelli's mandate, Jack used her terminal to book Kelly transportation back to Earth and tried not to feel guilty about it. Clearly, Chambers was in no state to be alone, but there was nothing Jack could do. Every counseling center and every shelter was overcrowded. Millions upon millions of traumatized survivors were squatting in burned out ruins across the planet, while out in space, almost every retired hulk with a working life support system had been pulled out of the scrapyard and pressed into service as a makeshift orbital habitat. It was a real fucking mess and the Alliance was still a few months away from getting a handle on it.

Admittedly, sleeping next to Kelly wasn't terrible and it seemed to make the former yeoman happy. Kelly was asleep within minutes. Jack drifted off not long after.

She was in the middle of a peculiar dream that had something to do with teaching biotic Krogan children when a loud bang shattered her sleep and pulled her into a half waking state. The station alarm, which went off as soon as any small firearm was discharged in Jump Zero, began to wail. Jack flopped out of bed, hitting the floor flat. It was instinct. She had her barrier up before she was fully awake. She knew the sound of a gun when she heard it.

Jack rolled to the middle of the room and was soon on her feet, barrier full on, ready to pulverize anything that was in her way. There was nothing. She went for the gun in her cabinet. It was gone. That's when the dread spilled over her.

"Oh, fuck, no no no no no no… KELLY!" she screamed.

The station siren continued to blare. Security would be along shortly. Jack scrambled through the apartment, finally hitting the bathroom. Chambers was in the shower, the water was running hot, washing over her body, washing the crimson down the drain. Jack's Carniflex had dropped onto the tiles next to the body. Bits of brain matter mixed with hair and skull fragments, still freshly embedded in tile wall, began to streak, assisted by gravity and mist.

Kelly had folded and piled her clothes neatly on the counter. She'd left a note on top of them.

 _They put a bug in my head._

 _I took it out._

Jack's instincts finally came back to life. It hit her, suddenly, like the flashlight on her shotgun illuminating a target in a dark corridor. It was them, all along. She should have known. They had Miranda.

Jack snarled. "Fucking Cerberus!"

* * *

 **Up Next:** The Normandy encounters a brand new enemy.


	23. The Wraiths

_The Wraiths are coming...  
_

* * *

" _The cries of the dead are terrible indeed; you should try not to hear them."_

Phillip K. Dick

December 24th, 2187

 **Commander Susan Rizzi**

* * *

General Vakarian stood at his command post surveying the galaxy map, which flickered eerily, adding to the general feeling of unease aboard the Normandy. The mystery of the Kesh Relay had been solved. They'd found it this morning, along with several derelict Reaper husks. However, their readings indicated that the Kesh Relay and the Reaper ships had not been destroyed this past year, but over a quarter million years in the past.

"Five cycles," Vakarian said out loud, as if he were finishing Susan's thoughts.

"Yes, Sir," said Specialist Sachs. "The relay was destroyed exactly five cycles ago. The data suggests it was struck by an asteroid. It's not unlike the Alpha Relay incident."

"What about the Reaper ships, were they caught in the explosion?" asked Vakarian.

"We'd need more time to study them to be certain," said Sachs. "My best guess, based on their positions, is that five of them were caught in the system termination, but the other two were destroyed in battle prior to the relay detonation."

Susan frowned. "What about the other five systems we checked? Clearly, the Reapers were here recently and they razed every planet capable of supporting life, yet none of the worlds we checked had signs of civilization at all, let alone a spacefaring race. They were mostly burning out jungles with animals, even nuking oceans full of fish. That's not their MO. It doesn't make sense."

Urdnot Wrex, who had spent much of the past few days on the bridge, considered Sachs for a moment, then looked back to General Vakarian.

"Seems the aliens in this sector have been surviving through the cycles, even fighting it out with the Reapers. That's downright impressive in my eyes." He said.

"Were they still fighting though?" asked Susan. "What if they've been hiding and the Reapers couldn't find them, so the machines decided to just burn every world in the sector, hoping they'd eventually do the job? It's raw, brutal, math, the sort of thing a machine would do. Eventually they'd get them, though it might cost a thousand habitable worlds."

General Vakarian shook his head. "Yet they did come out of hiding in order to prey on other species. The Asari ship we found concerns me. How did the aliens get on board so easily? The state of the corpses we found… well, it brings up memories of some of our missions on the first Normandy. Cerberus was trying to do something similar with creepers and the like, using mutated species as weapons."

He took a breath, then continued with his line of reasoning. "Another thing, where did the Krogan fleet go? How does an entire Krogan war fleet just vanish? What if this race has survived out here all these cycles, fighting back against the Reapers? What could we be dealing with now that the Reapers are no longer in their way?"

Wrex grunted. "Are you trying to spook me old friend?"

Specialist Sachs spoke up. "If I may, Sir. The ruins on the moon that Lt. Sallikus is investigating indicate an extremely advanced infrastructure, which suggests a home world rather than a colony. When it was destroyed by the relay explosion, it is likely their entire civilization went with it. I can't imagine many of them were left, aside from stragglers, and I'd assume the Reapers would eventually hunt them down through agents like the Collectors."

"This might have been the home planet of another species, possibly a rival. We know the Reapers were thorough, but we also know they weren't perfect," said Susan. "After all, the Leviathan survived all these millions of years."

"The Commander makes an excellent point," said Vakarian.

He jumped onto the com. "Joker, have you picked anything up out there?"

"Hell no!" came the reply. "Not with all this radiation. We can't even get communications through to the ground team."

Vakarian sighed. "I don't like this, we should get them out of there. Joker, what's our heat status?"

"We're running pretty cool right now," replied the pilot.

"Let's sneak in for the extraction then. Rizzi, prep your squad just in case," said the General.

"They're ready to go," said Susan.

She made her way to the elevator. As the doors were closing behind her, she heard the Krogan Clan Leader make a comment to Vakarian under his breath.

"Garrus, old friend, I've got bad feeling about this."

Susan agreed with Wrex. Exiting the elevator, she made her way to the armory to suit up. She went for a different set of gear based on the intelligence reports she'd gone over. She took time, cautiously choosing what to bring.

Forgoing her usual Talon, she snatched a Phalanx side arm with extended heat sinks and an enhanced power booster amp. Additionally she grabbed an M7 Lancer with a retrofitted gas discharge system for heat dissipation. She bolted on a thermal scope and chose incendiary ammo for each weapon. Susan had a hunch, though she hoped she was wrong.

"Holy shit, boss, you're loaded for bear," observed Biggs. "I've never seen you pack that heavy."

"I want to be ready for an extended firefight," said Susan.

Biggs grinned. "Now you're speaking my language!"

Just as Susan was about to reply, General Vakarian cut in on the coms. "Attention, Raptor Squad is pinned down by hostiles. They've taken casualties—Rizzi?"

"On it, General," she replied.

She turned to her squad. "You heard the General, the birds are in trouble. Time to save their asses."

Biggs laughed. "Oh, man, I can't wait to see the look on Lieutenant Stick-Up-His-Ass's face when we come charging in to the rescue."

"Let's hope we get that opportunity," said Susan. "Remember what I told you?"

Farrel chimed in. "Hostiles are probably biotic, advanced tech, could even be enhanced by the Reapers."

"Great, so the Collectors part deux," said Chun.

"Yea, or worse," said Susan.

Rizzi's team headed for the Kodiak.

* * *

Kesh V was a gas giant nearly five hundred times the mass of Earth. It had a collection of ninety-seven moons. The largest, roughly the size of Mars, was special. Before the relay explosion it had an abundance of life, in part due its impressive magnetosphere that shielded it from the brunt of Kesh V's radiation output, and because of its far-ranging orbit around the gas giant, which required nearly three hundred days to complete. This vast orbital radius allowed for a thirty hour day, which differentiated it from the other ninety six moons, all of which were tidally locked.

In its heyday, the moon was a temperate, mountainous world; water-rich, and veined with enormous canyons carpeted by tropical jungles. Its vast, singular ocean was likely the result of an ancient collision with another moon. The ocean was rimmed by staggering cliffs and crowned by thousands of waterfalls which were fed by geothermal glacier melt. Several of these waterfalls were over a kilometer in height.

The higher regions, especially near the poles, were riddled with volcanoes. The ruins on the surface huddled around the volcanoes in the same fashion that Earth's population centers formed around bodies of water. The Normandy's survey team supposed that the entire civilization was built upon the foundation of accessible geothermal energy. The amount of water present on the moon, coupled with the active volcanoes and the dense jungles that had once existed in the canyons, had probably kept the world wrapped in a warm blanket of moist air.

Unfortunately, much of the planet's atmosphere had been stripped away by the relay explosion, thus evaporating its protective climate. Immediately thereafter, the entire world froze. Jungles, rivers, lakes, and cities had all been buried by dust and ice. The only testament to its former life supporting status were the waterfalls which had flash frozen to wondrous effect. Encircling the expansive ocean of ice, they served as sentinels, or perhaps grave markers that faintly echoed the long-forgotten majesty of a dead world. The Normandy survey team had unofficially labeled the moon Cascadia Graves.

They set down five clicks from Raptor Squad's original entry point, which was just to the north of a series of mounds that piqued the survey team's interest. Rizzi ordered her squad to stay off the coms and use hand signals, just in case. She led the forward fireteam with Biggs and James. The second fireteam, composed of Chun, Farrel, and Baclanova, was instructed to stay on her five o'clock. They were shielded on the left by a wall of ice that was impassible.

The ground was composed of gray volcanic ash. Fine particles swirled at their feet, driven by a steady thirty kilometer wind coming in from the northeast, which was roughly ten o'clock on their current trajectory. She'd committed Raptor Squad's scouting plan to her memory as best she could and estimated that if they ran into trouble they'd head for the far southern mound, which was the largest and the most likely to have cover.

They'd received no signal from Raptor Squad since the initial distress call came through to the Normandy, which meant that they were either hiding or crossed out. The latter was unacceptable. She wasn't particularly fond of Lieutenant Sallikus, but he was an asset—one that they would sorely need if they ever reached Tuchanka.

Susan cursed the situation they were in. She hadn't been in favor of this little detour to begin with, and with each passing hour the endeavor seemed to be a sinking ship. Here they were in the ass end of nowhere slogging through dust in a graveyard of a planet with no idea what they were up against. The worst part of it was, if they died out here then Tuchanka might fall into chaos and the entire galaxy would pay the price. She realized she might soon have to make decisions that would lead to many sleepless nights.

Thirty-seven minutes after their drop, they were closing in on the southern mound when their coms lit up. Susan's immediate reaction was anger. She was about to rip into one of her team members when a desperate voice came through the static.

" _Sallikus to Feral Squad. Enemy is cloaked, repeat, enemy is cloaked. My team is down. Abort your mission immediately. They hit us from everywhere—biotics and toxins that went right through our kinetics. Do not break com silence, repeat, do not break com silence. They track signal sources. I stayed alive by going silent and hiding, but they'll be on me as soon as they pick up this broadcast. They're like Reaper Cannibals, they feed in the field. Do you copy that? Rizzi, get your squad the hell out of here. I…_ "

A shrieking sound broke over their coms before the signal was cut off. Susan wasn't sure if it was made the enemy, or it was the last desperate cry of the Turian, but whatever its origin, it seemed to unnerve her whole squad. Biggs froze in his tracks and turned to her. She was vigorous with her hand signal. Her direction was clear. Stay on target, maintain silence. The terrain was their ally at the moment. Even cloaked, there was no way an enemy could pull of an ambush or even make an approach unless they wanted to show themselves. James fell off pace so he could reaffirm the mission to the second fireteam.

Susan and Biggs quickened to a trot with full confidence that James would make any ground he lost in plenty of time. Lieutenant James was one of the most powerful biotics Susan had ever worked with, but even more impressive was his physical conditioning. James had ranked first in all Alliance PFT scores for the last three years running, much to the chagrin of his closest competition, one James Vega. The two men had developed an intense rivalry as well as a healthy amount of respect for each other.

Everyone admired James, especially Susan, given what she knew about him. As his commanding officer on a highly classified mission, Susan had access to all sealed records, thus she was privy to the fact that Steven James was once a teenage girl named Sienna Kahanu. According to her psyche reports she was a solid kid from a military family with an outstanding tradition of famous soldiers. Alliance was in her blood. Her only issue was that she never felt comfortable in her own skin.

Sienna's father, Admiral Kahanu, paid for her transformation and used all the perks of his command to get access to the top military implants and biogenetics. He also used his connections to wipe the record clean so his daughter, now son, would have a fresh start. Gender transformation was fairly normal in the modern age, yet there was still a line of discrimination, especially with traditional thinkers and entrenched military hardliners. Kahanu's career suffered as a result, but it did not seem to matter to him so long as Steven James succeeded. Susan, of all people, appreciated a father who was willing to move mountains for his daughter.

James was near a perfect soldier, aside from his obvious crush on his commanding officer. Susan was uncomfortable with that particular facet of his personality. It was one of the regular pitfalls of command. She was used to dealing with. It was also covered by all kinds of regs that she could hide behind. The unfortunate facet of it, for her, was that she felt a definitive attraction to James, there was no denying that fact. In many ways he was the type of man she had always wanted to be with, but not now, not in this situation. The timing wasn't right.

Her recent connection with Massani was working for her. Susan had always been the faithful type, even if she hadn't given morality much lip service. She'd always been conscious of taking care of the people in her life, friends and lovers alike, so her feelings for James shamed her on some level even if there was no foul in it.

It certainly wasn't a betrayal, not by any means. Zaeed had been clear on that point. He was going to go his way, she hers, and if they saw each other again, they'd work it out from there or not at all. So why the confusion and shame? Perhaps she felt more for Massani than she wanted to admit, or perhaps she was off her game because Lieutenant James veered too young for her usual tastes. She also wondered if her reluctance had anything to do with the Lieutenant's past. She never thought of herself as close-minded, and she never once looked at James and saw a woman, yet, there was something…

' _Shit, Rizzi, keep your head clear and you're eyes bright, you're on an ancient moon, surrounded by an unknown enemy, and you're getting lost in your own fucking drama!_ ' she told herself.

She shook it off and wrapped herself in the details of the surrounding terrain—the blowing ash, the dance of sunlight off the distant glaciers, and the movements of her immediate team members. Unless they enemy was invisible, there was no way they could approach her guys without revealing themselves.

It took twenty minutes to close in on the southern mound. Her fireteam went into action, just as they planned, skirting the perimeter of the mound and finding access on the western edge. An ancient doorway had been blasted open with a Turian proximity mine, revealing for certain, that the mounds were artificial. Sachs had suspected as much, but the pyramid shaped mounds had been difficult to scan from orbit despite their size. They entered, Susan's team first, Farrel's team five minutes later.

There hadn't been any enemy sightings or contact since the Turian Lieutenant's last message, but Susan suspected that may soon change. Her entire squad now stood in a chamber of what appeared to be a massive pyramid structure. The atmosphere inside the ancient walls was composed of oxygen, carbon dioxide, nitrogen, and a trace amount of fluoromethane, which would be dangerous as hell if they stumbled on a concentrated pocket during a firefight.

Susan caught a signal from James that was especially vigorous. Sliding over to her Lieutenant's position, she spotted the corpse, or rather, husk, of one the Turian soldiers from Raptor Squad. Though the kill was fresh, it was hard to differentiate it from the Asari husks they'd found on the Andan-Taril'Shar.

James shook his head in a manner that stated, ' _Oh shit, we're in it now._ '

Susan was proud of her team. Lesser soldiers would have panicked after the message they received from Sallikus. They may have questioned her orders, refused to go forward, or done something stupid like breaking com silence, but not her guys. They were solid, and they might just live through this as a result. They'd practiced every day on the Normandy—used all those long hours to work out a system, and now it was paying dividends.

All it took was a few simple hand signals to set the squad up in defensible positions across the chamber. Susan was set to execute her plan. There was still a chance at a limited extraction if at least one Turian squad member was still breathing. Perhaps she was overconfident, but she believed her squad was the best in the Alliance, and probably a cut or two above what Sallikus had put together. Whatever was coming their way, they'd be ready.

Susan set up the auxiliary power booster for her Geth Scanner and began her silent count. Once the scanner kicked on, everything inside the structure would be visible, including the aliens, in theory. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself of how many times she'd brought a team through an impossible situation. This was why Vakarian had requested her for his mission, this was what was expected of her.

She mentally barked an order at herself. ' _Do your fucking job, Rizzi, bring your squad home._ '

The Geth scanner powered up with a familiar throbbing hum. Time slowed to a standstill as Susan moved through her tasks with the efficiency she was famous for. Before a second had ticked off the timer she'd located two Raptor Squad survivors in a room not far from her position. They had wisely buried themselves in rubble and taken up firing positions to cover the only entrance to their area.

Before another second ticked off her timer she lit up her com. "Raptor Squad, maintain silence, but get ready to move. We're coming in after you. I'll hit my strobe before I make an entrance. You know the drill. Fireteam one, on me, two, stay in position. As soon as they are on you, light up your coms."

Leaving her com channel wide open, Susan flashed to the nearest entrance, Biggs and James were hot after her. Her adrenaline was pumping as she counted away the seconds. The aliens hadn't found her yet, but it was coming soon, she felt it. She dashed down the hallway, letting loose a biotic field that scraped the walls. Her field immediately exposed a hostile less than ten meters ahead. Its weapon was in a firing position, but Susan threw at it before it could compensate for her little surprise.

The alien was difficult to describe. Somehow, it maintained partial stealth even after her disruption, thus it appeared almost wraithlike in the hallway, flickering between visible and invisible spectrums of light. Her visor tried to compensate by running through infrared, ultraviolet, and even x-ray, but none of the settings showed it any clearer. As she suspected, the race was insectoid—closer to Prothean or Collector than Rachni, but dissimilar to both. The idea of a wasp, or a hornet, perhaps even a mosquito formed in her head, but none of those Human notions really amounted to an adequate description of the species.

That it was a predator, there was no doubt. Instead of a mouth or jaw, it featured a large proboscis, probably enhanced by an armored mask of some kind. It held a weapon, yet Susan could not perceive appendages, or legs for that matter. It seemed to hover in the air, wrapping itself in shadows or perhaps dark energy.

The alien crackled as its shields detonated. It staggered, but did not go down. As it struggled to point its weapon, Lieutenant James enveloped himself in a biotic field and hurled himself into the thing, blasting it into the far wall. Before it could recover, he ripped it open with the Omni-blade on his Crusader. A dark violet liquid gushed out of the wound as the alien quivered, then began to glow.

James retreated at once, cursing as he backed away. Susan could feel the heat on her armor several meters away as the alien self-incinerated, burning itself into a pile of ash within seconds. The heat cracked the walls and floor of the passageway.

"What the hell was that?" asked James.

"I have an idea," said Susan. "But this isn't the place to speculate. Keep moving."

"One behind us!" shouted Biggs.

He opened fire with his Typhoon, riddling the empty space with incendiary rounds, which the alien, unfortunately, shrugged off. The alien's weapon discharged with a unique hissing noise, its phased rounds shredding Bigg's kinetic barrier and slamming into his armor. As soon as they hit, they fragmented into a black, acidic mist which set off Susan's toxin proximity alarms. Biggs groaned and went to one knee. He appeared to be badly wounded.

Susan opened up with her Lancer, putting a dozen rounds in the empty space where the alien had just stood. Whatever stealth system the aliens were using was far beyond anything she'd dealt with before. Realizing that her enemy might be closing, Susan pulled in her field and moved towards Biggs. A hum in her ears alerted her to danger, but James had her back. A blast from his Crusader exposed the enemy, Susan dodged and unloaded her assault rifle into it. The rounds pounded the enemy, but were largely ineffective.

James charged, but the alien dissipated in a crackle of dark energy as the Lieutenant missed and went right through the wall, nearly collapsing the entire hallway on top of them. Using her field, she lit the enemy up, then used a throw to ravage its shields. So far, it seemed to be the only method that worked. James had recovered enough to gouge it with his Omni-blade. The alien howled before vanishing again.

By this time Biggs had regained his feet. Using his armor's mini rocket launcher, he managed to stun the alien, allowing Rizzi and James to finish it off. As soon as the enemy was down, they moved away. Just like the first alien, it incinerated itself. Susan wasn't sure if it was a biological function of the species, or else something they had built into their armor.

"Fuck! These things are nasty. No wonder they survived the Reapers all these years," said Biggs.

"It's brilliant really; stealth and self-destruct. Reapers rely on indoctrination and captured bodies for cannon fodder. You can't make husks out of an enemy that you can't find or capture," said Susan.

"Yea, brilliant, I hope there aren't many of them," said Biggs. "I'm not feeling so hot, and we still need to get to the Turians."

"Switch ammo!" Susan shouted over her com. "Anything but incendiary."

She chastised herself as she changed out her own ammo blocks. ' _Bad call, Rizzi!_ '

They moved down the hall cautiously. Biggs lagged behind. He was breathing heavy. Still, she maintained an open com, hoping to draw the enemy to her position. Even with Biggs wounded, her team was best equipped to handle these things.

It took only three minutes to reach the trapped Turian squad members. Pointing her gun at the entrance to their hiding place, she flashed a sequence of colors. Red, blue, yellow, blue, blue, and waited. A sequence of four consecutive blue flashes was returned. They entered the room.

One Turian was incapacitated, the other was on alert and looked ready to fight. She nodded in Rizzi's direction.

"Appreciate this, Commander," she said.

Biggs and James took up positions. The entrance was covered.

"Cassca, isn't it?" asked Susan.

"Yea, and this is Chief Ovvus. He's in bad shape. I think the aliens use some sort of warped ammo with a toxin for extra measure," said the Turian.

"Well, isn't that the shit?" said Biggs, who's voice was strained.

Susan stooped down to check the chief's vitals. It didn't look good.

"We'll have to carry him out," said Susan.

Before Cassca could make a move towards her comrade, James swooped in and lifted the Turian into his arms.

"Got this," he said.

Susan stared at Cassca. "You ready for some payback?"

The Turian nodded. "Sallikus made the ultimate sacrifice for us. I won't let him down."

It was difficult to read Turian expressions, but Susan sensed a degree of determination that gave her confidence in her new ally. Turning back to the door she gave the order to move forward. So far, no additional aliens had moved in on her position. She was nearly optimistic about their chances. Unfortunately, the situation deteriorated quickly.

Baclanova's panicked voice came over the com. "Commander, they're on us!"

"Hang tight, Snow White, and hold the fort, we're coming your way."

The sound of gunfire echoed through the old structure. Biggs went through the door first, followed by James, carrying the wounded Turian. Susan and Cassca followed. They moved as quickly as they could, all the while listening to the fight ahead.

Chun was screaming over the com. "Flag's down, I repeat, Flag's down. Snow White, watch your nine, watch your N…"

A wretched sound howled across their channel. It was Baclanova, had to be, and whatever was happening to her sounded awful.

Chun was nearly weeping. "They have some sort of web weapon, they pulled Flag and Snow away, and they're coming for me. Oh FUCK!"

Susan shouted at James. "Striker, I'm going ahead."

She flashed, down the corridor, and the next, and into the room. By the time she reached Chun, the corpsman was webbed up and on the ground. One of the aliens was preparing to drag her away. Another moved on the Commander's position. Susan extended her field, catching both, but only had time for one biotic throw. She hit the alien standing over Chun, lighting it up.

A bladed weapon, oozing black mist, flashed towards her abdomen. She parried quickly with her Lancer, but lost her own weapon when the alien blade cut into it. A hot, electrical charge coursed through her body, causing her hands to blister and then go numb. Her Lancer clattered to the floor. The alien was fast, nearly as fast as she was. Worse, the second alien was also moving on her, blade extended while she stood helpless, stunned, but before it could hit home, James crashed into it, knocking it aside.

Biggs followed him into the room, Cassca right behind, dragging her now conscious and mobile Turian comrade along with her. He had a pistol in one hand that he could barely lift, but he manage to hit one of the aliens nonetheless. Cassca and Biggs opened fire on the two aliens just as a third came in through an alternate entrance. Blood, fresh, Human blood, was dripping from its proboscis.

Thoroughly enraged at the sight of the thing, Biggs charged, his Typhoon spitting a hailstorm of cryogenic rounds. The alien responded by strengthening its biotic barrier and shrugging off the assault. It was the type of confidence that one might expect from an Asari Matriarch who'd had centuries to practice her barrier. It was a frightening sight to behold, especially considering that this alien was probably just a foot soldier or a scout.

The alien followed its barrier defense by a cloaking maneuver. Susan was able to follow tendrils of inky black energy with her eyes. They curled in its wake, like ribbons streaming in the wind. She shouted a warning to her man, but Biggs had lost his cool and was firing wildly.

Susan's hands were still numb, but she'd recovered enough to get her field up. Still, she couldn't get a bead on the alien. Before she could tag it with a throw, it appeared on the Corporal's flank, striking its blade deep into his armor. Biggs groaned, staggered, and swung his weapon wildly. James was engaged with the nearest alien, Cassca and Ovvus were firing wildly at the third combatant, and Chun was still stunned. It was all on Susan.

She peppered the thing with warped ammo from her Phalanx, weakening its barrier as it moved in her direction. Anticipating another flanking maneuver, she flashed to the right of the alien and managed to encase it in her annihilation field. Just as it extended a blade, she knocked it back with the hardest biotic throw she could muster, finally collapsing the bastard's barrier.

Howling like a madman, Biggs spun up his Typhoon, emptying it into the alien at point blank range. The cryogenic rounds tore up the alien's armor and found flesh. Susan hit it with another throw, knocking it clear of Biggs. A cracking sound indicated that she had probably struck it a mortal blow. This was confirmed when the incineration process began.

The other two aliens retreated from the room, shrieking as they went. The sound was, in Susan's opinion, worse than the wail emitted by the Banshees. Forgetting all reason, she followed them. James shouted at her, but it wasn't his demands that halted her progress, rather it was the sight of Baclanova's corpse that stopped her in her tracks.

The aliens had pulled the Russian Engineer into the adjoining hallway, stripped off her armor, and consumed her on the spot. What was most frightening, was that her remains could hardly be differentiated from the Asari corpses on the derelict ship. She'd been sucked dry, deflated like a vacuum-sealed bag of flesh, and it happened in a minute or less.

Susan had seen many horrific things on the battlefield, so many that she thought she was immune to terror, desensitized to the point of inhumanity, but this made her feel like a timid civilian. It was all she could do not to vomit in her mask and run screaming from the room. Instead she backed away slowly, trying to regain her nerve as she made her way back to her squad.

The remaining members of both squads made their way out of the structure. Susan covered her team as best she could while she fought back tears of frustration. The Kodiak had set down only thirty meters from the entrance. She'd never been so happy to see the beast before. Getting Biggs to the shuttle was an ordeal. He was in bad shape.

As soon as they were in flight, Chun opened up the medical cache and began working on Biggs and Ovvus. Susan was riding shotgun, watching all the shuttle's visual and instrumental feeds nervously. Her blistered hands throbbed, but she tried to shut it out and focus. They couldn't get signals from the Normandy due to the radiation bands just outside of the moon's orbit, and though the Normandy could hear them, they didn't dare broadcast their position.

A blip from one of the Kodiak's sensors caught her attention. She began monitoring the instrument panel nervously.

"I'm getting an odd reading on our seven o'clock, three clicks off," she warned the pilot.

"Probably just atmospheric turbulence," he said.

The pilot, a decent flyer named Corrado, moved a visual of the area to Susan's panel to show her that there was no craft in the vicinity. Perhaps she was rattled, but she had a hunch. Leaning her face near the panel, she studied the area and noticed a distortion. It was almost as if she was seeing a reflection of the sky, rather than the sky itself.

"It's a cloaked ship," she announced. "And it's a big one."

The pilot shook his head. "Stealth doesn't work that way," he explained to Susan. "Sure, a man-sized operative can run holographic camouflage units, but you can't do that with a large vessel. It's impossible to pull off, otherwise the Reapers would have come up with the technology over the millions of years they were doing their thing."

Susan was adamant. "They didn't need to. Listen, Corrado, get us the hell out of here. That thing is closing."

Corrado shook his head in disbelief. James, who had overhead the conversation, moved to the front of the shuttle.

"What are you looking at, Rizzi?" he asked.

Susan pointed out the distortion in the air, which was closing quickly. "There!" she said. "Recognize that distortion pattern?"

"Fuck!" said James. "That's just like the aliens on the ground, they're like wraiths or something. Why haven't they fired on us?"

"Maybe they want to capture us, or study us," said Susan.

"Feed," said James. "Maybe they're all starving. Back on Earth, people were getting pretty desperate before we left."

Something clicked for Susan. "That's what the Reapers were doing. They weren't going directly after the aliens, they were destroying their food supply. All those worlds the machines burned up, and down there, the aliens didn't even finish the fight with us before they…"

James shook his head. "Don't say it."

The distortion was almost on top of them. It was then that two things happened. First, Joker's voice blared over the com channel. "Watch your ass, Corrado, it's on fire!"

At that, the sky behind them ignited, illuminating a large vessel that looked nothing like anything she'd seen before. It was over five hundred meters in length, appearing more like a living organism than a starship. The blast it sustained from the Normandy's disruptor torpedoes had knocked it off course just in time.

The Normandy swooped it on the Kodiak like a bird of prey. Joker made a deft maneuver, flipping the SR-2 in the atmosphere, and allowing Corrado to adjust his heading so he could drop the Kodiak in the docking bay with minimal damage. They were in orbit before Susan could climb out of her seat, and by the time the shuttle door swung open, they were safely in FTL.

The mission was over, but it had cost them. Chun was covering Biggs with a blanket. Susan stumbled for the right words. Chun didn't look up.

"He's gone," she said.

Susan slumped to the floor of the Kodiak as she began to realize that she'd lost half her squad.

* * *

 **Up Next:** Time to catch up with Ashley and Liara.


	24. Identity Crisis

_I was struggling for Ashley's perspective in this chapter. Since she's been the subject of a lot of fan hate, I decided to immerse the character in the same criticism within the context of her universe. After all, one should always have the right to defend themselves._

 _One of the great things about writing fiction is exploring perspectives. You can argue with yourself in a story because you merely adapt to the viewpoint of whatever character you are writing in that moment. As an author, it's nice to step back and see all the different perspectives._

 _I spent years in manufacturing as a metallurgist, toolmaker, and mechanical engineer - so I have to laugh when see forum or google arguments about such things as the function of these imaginary breastplates, oversized weapons, impossible pauldrons... et_

 _Specifically, the folks freaking out about boob armor in fantasy and sci-fi realms full of magic and force fields remind me of a concerned caveman in an old Far Side panel I once saw:_

 _A bunch of cavemen are sitting around a massive rotting carcass in the middle of the field, it's buzzing with flies and they are all chowing down on this monstrosity. One of these cavemen has a sprig of parsley and he's holding it up, about to drop it into his mouth. The other caveman looks at him and says "Grog! No eat parsley, just for looks!"_

* * *

" _The most courageous act is still to think for yourself. Aloud_."

Coco Chanel

February 11th, 2188

 **Ashley Williams**

* * *

Kaidan's Ten was a hell of a run. The path was marked well, but much of it wound through difficult terrain. It sprawled six hundred meters across a sandy beach, another two hundred through a muddy cow pasture, and nearly nine hundred meters of the course zig-zagged through the forest on a trail hazarded by roots, nettles, and devils club.

The final hundred meters, which stretched across the border orchard, was pure exhilaration. Ashley burned the last of her reserves. She sprinted across the slick grass with confidence while the cold rain drove against her soaked t-shirt and running shorts. Both clung to her body like a second skin. The real skin, just underneath, was clammy and covered in goosebumps and sweat.

There was something special about the air on Vancouver Island, something rejuvenating. Perhaps it was the cool briny air that she liked the most, or the presence of the towering evergreen trees. Maybe it was the cries of gulls and eagles dancing in the wind, or the sight of orca crashing through the white crested waves of Quatsino Sound. Whatever it was, it suited her.

She passed the gate and began to slow, her side aching, her chest pounding. She jogged across the yard, transitioned to a walk, grabbed the porch railing and stretched, groaning as she lengthened her tired muscles.

Jean Alenko clapped. "Seventeen minutes and thirty-two seconds, wonderful!"

"Damn," said Ashley. "I thought I'd crack the seventeen minute barrier today."

"Not in this wind," said Jean. "Now, hurry up, get your shower, and get dressed. Your transport will be here in two hours."

Ashley was trying not to think about it. The thought of leaving this place shivved her in the guts with a cold blade. It was going to be difficult. She had to do a better job with this goodbye, a hell of a lot better than she'd managed with Tali. That whole affair was a fucking disaster, blubbering like an idiot on a Quarian Fleet channel that was sure as shit monitored by Alliance brass and probably the Council as well.

At least they weren't holding it against her, in fact, she'd gotten the call back to active duty only a few days after her com channel meltdown with Tali. Ashley reasoned that command must be pretty desperate for operatives, considering they were going to let her keep her rank, Spectre status, and give her a ship as well. What the hell was going on? Christmas had come and gone several weeks ago.

She toweled off near the door, discarded her running boots, and loped up the stairs, peeling off her wet clothes as she went. Seconds later, hot water poured over her slick skin as she was encompassed in a cloud of heavenly steam. As much as Ashley wanted to linger in the shower, she made short work of getting clean. She was in and out of the de-humidifier in under a minute and finished brushing her hair in less than three. Grabbing a robe in case Max was in the hall, she passed into her room to dress.

Her battle armor, which she'd spent all yesterday spit-shining, was arranged on the standup mount while her service and mess uniforms, both freshly pressed, were hanging from the garment rack. Disrobing, she pulled on her skivvies, checked the time, then pulled the service uniform off the rack and slipped it into a garment bag. She'd just pulled out her armor case and was preparing to pack it away when Jean entered the room.

She frowned. "Oh Ashley, I wish you'd get yourself some better armor. My friend Deborah is on the action committee and she's seen to it that the best gear is available in gender neutral, none of that metal boob nonsense."

As much as she loved Jean, Ashley couldn't bite her tongue on this one. Even more than Shepard, this was one of her hot buttons.

"Oh, here we go again, Rome burns while Nero fiddles," said Ashley.

Jean looked at her quizzically. "What do you mean?"

Ashely took a deep breath. "Indulging oneself in meaningless frivolities while serious problems threaten to overwhelm us. I don't want to get into this too much, but you know what? Your friend Deborah can go fuck herself."

Jean was shocked. "Ashley, that's no way to talk."

"I know you meant no harm," said Ashley, "but it's a bit of a sore subject for me. Do you know that if I had joined the military in my grandfather's time, I wouldn't have been allowed to be a combat marine without undergoing breast reduction surgery? I thank God every day for mass effect technology. We take for granted just how much the tech has changed our lives, especially as women. Imagine if I had to do that 10k in an old style sports bra with only micro-fibers for support?"

"It would have been hell on you," said Jean.

"At my size, it would've thrown me off balance, hurt my back, and turned eighteen minutes into thirty," said Ashley.

"Yes, but I'm not talking about a sports bra," said Jean. "It's the armor. I hear that those protrusions sticking out of the chest can be quite dangerous in combat."

Ashley rolled her eyes. "First of all, it's not dangerous—that's just an urban myth created by social crusaders who have no clue or background in engineering. All that nonsense you hear about breast armor crushing the sternum assumes that the design is ass-backwards—concave instead of convex, but that's all a moot point anyway. Armor itself offers little to no protection against kinetic force. Even in medieval times, when weapons were crude, the thickest armor was proof only against stabbing weapons. No matter the shape, or the style of armor, a thin piece of alloy or composit could never protect you from a round traveling at hypersonic velocities. In fact, it wouldn't even work against a simple punch from one of the stronger alien species.

I've been hit by a Krogan before, several times in fact. Without the inertia fields my armor conducts, my ribs would have been fragmented and my heart and lungs would have been smashed right through my shoulder blades regardless of the shape of my chest piece. The style of the armor a soldier wears is nothing more than decoration. Without the mass effect technology, it's completely useless."

"I see," said Jean. "Well, then, if those boobs on that armor aren't useful, why have them at all? Isn't it rather undignified?"

Ashley reached for her display pad and pulled up some combat footage. She held it out for Jean to watch.

"Look," she said. "Notice the alien species? Turian battle armor is a stylistic choice that reflects their decorum and history. Krogan Armor exaggerates the size of their humps, and that very slutty looking Asari armor hasn't changed in thousands of years because they completely lack inhibitions. Maybe it's because they've never had to endure gender orientated body shaming.

Quarian armor accentuates their extraordinary hips and knee joints. Why? Because they choose to present themselves in a certain cultural aesthetic. We are much the same, our Alliance armor often reflects ancient designs that have nothing to do with function. Do you know who initially created the notion of breast armor?"

Jean shook her head. "No, but I imagine you are going to tell me."

"The Greeks, Romans, and Persians," said Ashley. "They wore a breastplate carved in the exact likeness of a male chest. Often their armor was even decorated by nipples to further sexualize it, which pleased the wives and lovers of the soldiers. We've been reproducing that look in one way or another for dozens of centuries without ever questioning its origins.

Now, some Alliance desk jockey is telling me that it's not dignified to have feminine armor to distinguish myself, and that my self-respect hinges upon dressing myself in armor specifically designed to emulate a man's body. I call bullshit on that and I'll dress how I please. If a woman wants to bind, stuff, and wear featureless armor, she's absolutely welcome to do so, but if I want to show up in armor that explains what I am beneath it, then I'll do it as long as it meets code."

"My, my," said Jean. "You've a strong opinion on this."

"Do you remember the battle dress code edict of 2172? It was just before my time. Perhaps Kaidan mentioned it to you?"

Jean thought for a moment. "If I recall, Kaidan said he took part in a protest."

"A lot of it is classified," said Ashley. "The Alliance was trying to save face for their blunder. What happened on Mindoir really shook brass up, and some idiot decided that we needed to protect our women from the Batarians, so a memo was sent banning all feminized armor. Hip joints had to meet a certain code and all chest armor had to be flat and featureless. A rumor was circulating that any woman who presented herself as such on the battlefield was in danger of being raped by the Batarians, so it was safer for us all if they couldn't tell our male and female soldiers apart."

Jean frowned. "And the soldiers protested?"

Ashley smiled. "The men did. The next day, many of our male soldiers borrowed the gear from the women's lockers. If they couldn't get into a set of armor, they'd improvise. One of the guys from dad's old company welded torpedo tips on his chest plate. Somehow, all those male soldiers managed to avoid being raped. The memo was recalled two days later and all the soldiers went back to wearing any armor that passed regs."

Jean raised her eyebrows. "So my son?"

Ashely smirked. "Wore boob-plate for a day or two. He always got a laugh out of us when he told that story."

Jean stared at Ashley's armor and sighed. "Well, I wouldn't be caught dead in that getup, but if you feel strongly about it, then I suppose you're welcome to it. You are, after all, a rather chesty girl, but that still doesn't explain the armor I often saw Shepard wearing."

Ashley laughed. "That was classic overcompensation! There were times when I wore a flat breastplate and never thought twice about it, but Shepard? Once she was assigned some confiscated Cerberus armor that was perfect for her abilities—Inferno class armor, I believe, and of course it had a flat breastplate. I'd never heard pissing and moaning from Shepard before, but during those ops where she had to wear that armor, she was insufferable. She was acting like a tomcat that had just been neutered. The sky of every battlefield we dropped into for a full week was darkened by Shepard's cloud of indignation."

Jean was shocked. "It was that important to her? How egotistical."

"She wasn't ego driven, but there were a lot of idiosyncrasies, issues that she covered up," said Ashley. "Before she, well, before the first Normandy was destroyed, she was a little more at ease, but when she returned she was definitely moodier, and, _enhanced_ … for lack of a better word. Cerberus restored the damage her body sustained, and did a little bit extra. I suppose it was in her living will, because Cerberus was operating on a mandate to bring her back exactly as she was before."

"I see," said Jean. "Kaidan always told me that she was a complicated girl, but all I ever saw was the pain she caused him. I admit that I wrote most of her personality quirks off as vanity."

Ashley shook her head. "It wasn't vanity, it was… well, I shouldn't be the one to say. If you really want to know more about her, just ask Liara."

"I suppose I should," said Jean. "But I've been afraid of asking. So much of what my son was in later years was wrapped up in Shepard. Sometimes I feel as if she stole him from us."

"It wasn't Shepard," said Ashley. "It was the Reapers, remember that. They took a lot of things. Speaking of, where is Max?"

Jean sighed. "He's in the barn again."

"Good day, bad day?" asked Ashley.

"Bad," said Jean. "When I got him up this morning it took him awhile to remember who I was. I'm sorry, dear, but if you go to him to say goodbye, he might not recognize you."

"I'll understand if he doesn't," said Ashley.

Jean Alenko stood up and opened up her arms. "Give me a hug, dear."

Ashley embraced her with warmth. Somehow, she managed to hold her emotions in check, but it was going to be difficult to leave the Alenko home behind.

"Thank you for opening your home to me, for all of this," said Ashley. "I don't know where I'd be without you."

Jean Alenko managed a thin smile and bit her lip ever so slightly before she left the room. Once she was gone, Ashley busied herself with her packing. She finished early enough that she put off dressing in her uniform. There were still two goodbyes to go.

Liara was in her room taking a nap. The Asari was quite large now and the baby was still several months off. Ashley tried to imagine what she'd look like just before delivery. She crept up to the bed, quietly, then slipped under the covers and wrapped her arms around Liara, nuzzling her with affection.

"Hey, you," said Liara with her sleepy voice.

"I'm leaving soon," said Ashley.

"I know," said Liara. "I have been trying to avoid dealing with it."

"So you're sleeping it off?" asked Ashley.

"I was waiting for you to come by," said Liara.

"I see," said Ashley. "Are we…"

"Friends, always," interrupted Liara.

Ashley lowered her voice. "About the other night."

Liara sighed. "Humans, must you guilt yourselves every time you engage in what is perfectly natural?"

"Well, you just said friends, and if I recall what happened was a little more than friendly, at least from my perspective," said Ashley.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to make light of your feelings," said Liara.

Ashley stumbled for the right words. "I just don't know what my feelings are. I know that you're my friend, but…"

"We are friends, friends who have suffered great loss and found comfort in each other, if only for a time," said Liara. "It is quite normal among Asari, and as far as I know, not unheard of within the confines of your own species either."

"You make it sound so scientific," said Ashley.

"It is a merely an observation, aside from my feelings," said Liara.

"But what are your feelings?" asked Ashley.

Liara clasped Ashley's hands and squeezed. "I care for you a great deal. If you are asking if I am in love with you…"

"I'm not asking for that," said Ashley. "I know that you loved Shepard. I suppose I'm just trying to make sense of it all."

"We," said Liara. "No you, not I, we."

Ashley stumbled over the concept. "What?"

"We both loved her," said Liara. "That's what this was about. I've always acknowledged it, but I understand it is a new concept for you. That is why we finally joined the other night."

"Now I'm more confused than ever," said Ashley. "Are you trying to say I slept with you because I wanted to be close to Shepard?"

"Yes," said Liara. "As did I with you. Shepard loved you before she loved me, and when Shepard and I joined, that part of her became a part of me. I am sorry if you do not understand that."

Ashley sighed. "I really don't. It must be an Asari thing."

"Perhaps," said Liara.

"I don't even know who I am anymore," said Ashley.

Liara caressed Ashley's hand. "Why do you say that?"

"I always thought I was straight," said Ashley.

"I don't understand why you humans must define yourself as one thing or the other," said Liara. "But then again, I suppose it is only natural for a race that is cut in half."

Ashley frowned. "Cut in half? That's a dramatic way of looking at it."

"You aren't whole, your species, like many others, is disconnected. Perhaps that is why you feel conflict over natural feelings and impulses, or why you dwell on such trivial matters as the anatomy of the armor you wear," said Liara.

Ashley snorted. "Listening in on every conversation I have, and here I thought you were taking a break from the Shadow Broker thing."

"I must always remain at least partially devoted," said Liara. "Otherwise I would lose all my contacts. I have another acting on my behalf at the moment, but as soon as my child is born I will take on more of the load again. And speaking of my aspirations, would you do me a favor as soon as you are assigned?"

Ashley laughed. "I haven't even received my orders and you have a side mission for me already?"

Ashley could feel Liara's smile. "Of course," said the Asari. "There will be many others as well, do you object?"

"No," said Ashley. "So, what is it?"

"I want you to find Jennifer Novotny," said Liara.

"Ok, I'll bite. Who is she?" asked Ashley.

"My apologies, I was lost in my own thoughts. It's Jack," said Liara.

"We haven't found Miranda yet," said Ashley. "And now Jack's missing as well?"

"Jack is searching," said Liara. "In the most inconvenient manner for the Alliance. I fear that she will end up becoming a problem the authorities will want to solve. You need to find her before the wrong people do."

"I get it," said Ashley. "She's one of us. Anything else?"

"Contact Zaeed Massani and Samantha Traynor, it would be good to get them involved, give them something to do," said Liara.

Ashley chortled. "Why not get the whole crew back together?"

"That's not the worst idea," said Liara. "The war goes on, Ashley, a different war, but a war nevertheless. It is times like these that we must depend on those we can trust."

Ashley hissed, exasperated. "It's never over, is it?"

"Never," said Liara.

The Asari turned to face Ashley. They stared at each other in quiet contemplation for several minutes. Liara stroked Ashley's cheek.

Ashley felt water drip from her eyes. "I love you, Liara T'Soni, as a friend, of course."

Liara's mouth turned upward into a smile. "And I love you, my friend. Which is why I want you to consider something while you are gone."

"Shoot," said Ashley.

"After my child is born, I want another. I would like you to be the father, so to speak. Remember, the process need not involve physical…"

"I know how it works by now," said Ashley. "And I'm fine with it any way you want to do it."

Liara's smile broadened. "That response was more earnest than I expected. Did you know I was going to ask?"

"Intuition," said Ashley. "You've dropped enough hints, and I've thought about it myself. So yes, let's do it."

Liara kissed Ashley on the cheek. "You should speak to Maximiano before you go."

"If he even recognizes me," said Ashley.

Liara lifted her chin ever so slightly. "Just the same…"

"I will," said Ashley. "After a few more minutes here with you."

The minutes passed all too quickly. Ashley left without another word. She went out the back door and followed the eaves of the house as far as she could to keep dry before breaking across the grass and heading for the barn. Fortunately, the rain had let up a little.

Max Alenko was sitting on his bench near one of the hay bins. The horses nickered as he looked on them without expression.

"Hey, Max," said Ashley. "Do you remember me?"

He didn't respond. Ashley put her hands in her pockets and stood near him, hoping he might sense her presence on some level. Scientists were still seeking a solution to the neurological damage induced by Reaper Indoctrination, but it was widely suspected that there wouldn't be enough time for victims like Max Alenko. His condition was worsening by the day.

Ashley passed the time in silence. Eventually, she gave up and began making her way to the door. Just as she was about to walk out he spoke up.

"Kaidan, you've been gone so long, and now off again. Where across the stars this time, son? Are you still chasing after that Shepard girl?" he asked.

"I've a mission for the Alliance," responded Ashley.

"Good, good, son, I'm proud of you. I always have been. You know that, don't you?"

"I do," said Ashley.

It wasn't the first time that he had projected Kaidan onto her, but she could never quite get used to it.

Max Alenko's eyes glistened. "Ok, then, get out there and give your best. Remember, son, I love you."

Ashley nearly choked on the words as she forced them out of her mouth. "I love you too… _dad_."

For a fleeting moment there was joy on Max Alenko's face, but then the emotions slipped away into a dark chasm with the rest of his mind. His jaw slackening, the expression on his face returned to a lifeless neutral.

Ashley Williams left with a heavy heart, knowing that she would never see Max again. She consoled herself with the hope that he would soon be reunited with his real son. She believed in that, or at least she needed to believe it.

* * *

"There she is," said Hackett.

The Admiral pointed out the window towards the Normandy Class Frigate on the docking arm. Ashley nearly wet her pants with excitement as she read the lettering on the side of the ship: SSV Salamis. She was beautiful.

Hackett smiled with satisfaction. "She's the sister ship to the Ain Jalut, think of her as a bridge between the two Normandy ships you served on. She's much smaller than the SR2, but a full fifteen meters longer than the SR1 and packs a smaller version of the Thanix cannon. It's a hell of a lot of firepower for her size."

"Thank you, Admiral, Madam President," said Ashley. "There are no words."

"I'm not sure you should be thanking us," said President Parasini. "I have no idea what these things want with you. I didn't think we'd hear from them so soon after we granted them territory in this sector."

Ashley stared out into space. "Strange that the Rachni Queen would ask for me, specifically."

"The Asari messenger was insistent," said Hackett. "The soldier known as Ashley Williams."

"But I never interacted with her, never even saw her," said Ashley. "It was Liara and Garrus who went into the Noveria facility with Shepard, and Liara again with Javik and Grunt on Utukku."

"We'll find out soon enough," said Hackett. "The Salamis is a fast ship. The Rachi shouldn't be more than a week away."

Ashley was shocked. "You gave them territory that close to Earth?"

Hackett was stoic. "We had no choice, Williams. The Reaper War took everything we had. Humanity is in a desperate situation, in no position to fight a conflict of any kind and we have no idea what else is out there. We needed a shield, and the Rachni were willing to deal with us above all other races, perhaps out of respect for the Commander."

Ashley shook her head. It was difficult to process the information she'd been given.

"About the other thing I mentioned," said Ashley.

"We've got every spare agent looking into Lawson's disappearance," said Hackett.

"Right," said Ashley. "I just want first crack…"

Hackett frowned. "We'll hold off on Subject Zero for a few more weeks, but after that we're going to have to bring her in. She's out of control, Williams, tearing apart anyone or anything that gets in her way. It's a fucking mess."

Ashley stared at her beautiful new ship and thought to herself. ' _The crazy things we do for love._ '

* * *

 **Up Next: Jack's Search for Miranda**


	25. Mirror Mirror (Part One)

_This is the chapter I've been waiting to write for some time - the plot, Jack searching for Miranda, and Olivia, was planned out before the rest of the story started to gel in my head, before I ever put the first words of the first chapter down, so I couldn't wait to write this, and it quickly became, if you will, "epic", and I realized it was headed for 10k words so I broke it into two. I introduced the Olivia character in the Reaper Dreams Prequel, "The Omega Incident" (I've posted the first 3 chapters), though she hasn't been named yet, or her nature fully revealed._

* * *

" _Science fiction films are not about science. They are about disaster, which is one of the oldest subjects of art."_

Susan Sontag

February 28th, 2188

 **Subject Zero**

* * *

Ramirez took a long drag on his cigarette, staring at Jack as if she were some insolent puppy that had just peed on his carpet. It was difficult, but she managed to keep her ego and her acerbic brand of moxy in check. Leaving his office without the information she needed would fuck her over in the worst way, send her back to the start. She'd lose Miranda's trail for good if that happened. She couldn't let it happen.

"You're here because I think the world of Kahlee Sanders," said Ramirez. "You have ten minutes of my time, so what do you want?"

Jack wasn't used to sucking up. It took everything she had to swallow her pride and fake a smile when all she really wanted to do was beat it out of him. She wasn't sure if she hated the little goatee or the fancy cigarette worse, but something about the man screamed for an ass kicking.

"I know you were one of Miranda Lawson's contacts before she disappeared. I need to know what she was looking into," she said.

Ramirez tilted his head back, forcing a thin trail of smoke from his lips. "Why?"

Jack dug into her leg with her own nails. "Because it's important, because I want to find her."

"Sounds personal," said Ramirez. "I do not like personal."

"What the f…" Jack stopped herself. "Excuse me, what do you mean by that, if I may ask?"

"This isn't a help desk. I am in the intelligence business, Ms. Nought. I trade important information with trained professionals. I have neither the inclination nor time to humor some schoolteacher looking for her girlfriend," said Ramirez.

Jack already had enough of him. "Ok, asshole, I'm done putting on my kissy face. I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but do you have any idea who you're talking to? I've been everywhere, done everything. Killed so many people I lost track, served time in the hardest joints in the galaxy, served on the Normandy, took a trip through the Omega 4 to blow the hell out of the Collectors, and I was there in London putting the hammer down on the Reapers, so don't fucking call me schoolteacher."

Ramirez let a faint smile play across his lips while he stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray. He leaned back in his chair and stared at Jack with hard eyes.

He chided her. "All too easy, Ms. Nought. You are formidable, no doubt, but I am not another Alliance secretary or bureaucrat you can intimidate, and how far has that brought you, eh? Sanders said you would be well behaved, but I knew better. It took me less than a minute to get you barking like a mad dog"

Jack snarled. "What the fuck?"

Ramirez leaned back in his chair, folding his hands so that only his fingertips and thumbs touched each other. "You fancy yourself a rebel, a real bad girl, am I right? Yes, I have seen your criminal record sheet. Very impressive, but that was then and this is a bold new galaxy. You are no longer that person, else you, a former Cerberus prisoner and test subject, would not be here at my desk begging me for information about a woman you love, who is, in fact, a former Cerberus operative."

Jack didn't have much of a comeback. "Yea, I know, it sounds crazy."

"Not really, nor is it surprising," said Ramirez. "We all stood at the brink, Ms. Nought. We looked into the abyss, thought it was over, and then we got a second chance. Many are grateful. They want to do it better. Everyone is changing their ways, leaving their old selves behind. Out there across the galaxy, everyone is wanting to fall in love or is in the process of it. Friends are becoming lovers, colleagues are becoming lovers, even old enemies are becoming lovers, and shortly afterwards, they all want children. The whole damn galaxy has gone, what is the term? Baby crazy, I believe, which is only natural, in fact it is evolutionary imperative."

Jack shook her head. "Say what?"

Ramirez shrugged. "Call it ancestral memory, subconscious will, or whatever you like. Our species, all species, must propagate and recover from the tremendous losses we sustained, thus we are all feeling the need to nest. Love is not just in the air, it is taking us all by storm. This is why I do not wish to give you the information you are after."

"Listen, asshole," said Jack. "Fuck your overcomplicated rationale, I just want to find Miranda. I have every reason to believe that Cerberus took her, and I'm not going to let them win."

"That Cerberus is involved is the only reason we are having this meeting. Why? Because the one thing in this universe that we share, Ms. Nought, is utter contempt and hatred for Cerberus," said Ramirez.

"Then why are you dicking with me?" asked Jack.

"Because I cannot trust you in the field," said Ramirez.

"I've been around," said Jack. "I'm not some fucking amateur. I've been in on some of the biggest heists and ops this galaxy has ever seen. You must know what I'm capable of, what I've done."

"Three years ago, we would not be having this conversation," said Ramirez. "I would have put you on the trail without hesitation, but that is not who you are anymore. You are, how I shall say it? Socially conscious, morally aware. You understand right from wrong. That kind of operative is only successful within the context of a team that navigates with a code or set of ethics. It does not work for the lone wolf who must be willing to shed all pretenses of morality."

Jack snapped her fingers. "I don't need no fucking team, I know how it is out there. I can turn shit on, handle whatever comes my way, and I'll do whatever it takes without having to cry about it afterwards. I don't do guilt."

Ramirez shook his head. "So you say, but you are less than convincing. I do not think you will be willing to do what is necessary. It is not as easy to go back to that life as you believe. Aside from that, you have a reckoning coming."

"A what?" asked Jack.

Ramirez leaned forward. "There is a rationale to this universe, Ms. Nought, a natural order of things—evil and good, yin and yang, light and dark. Those who have truly embraced the darkness lose themselves to the void. They've made their deposit up front, and their path to ruin is clear. However, people like you, who insist on crawling out of the abyss, have a penance to pay."

"…the fuck are you talking about?" snarled Jack.

Ramirez sighed. "We have a saying in the business: the devil always comes back for his own. Do you understand what that means?"

"I don't," said Jack. "I don't believe in any of that shit. I've made it through life on my own, doing things my way. There wasn't ever any fate, universe, or devil involved."

Ramirez withdrew a gun from his desk and cautiously set it on the table.

Jack laughed. "Are you going to threaten me, Mr. Ramirez?"

Ramirez showed his teeth. "No, I am asking if you want a clean death or a painful death. I can give you a bullet to your face, or the information you seek? Which way do you want to die?"

Jack laughed. "I'll take the information, now quit jerking me around with your melodramatic bullshit."

"As you wish," said Ramirez. "Olivia, Olivia Free."

Jack stared at him. "What is that?"

"It is a name. That was who Miranda Lawson was looking for," said Ramirez.

"So, this Olivia is a Cerberus agent?" asked Jack.

Ramirez smiled and shook his head. "No, she is a poet, a musician, a dancer, and a surrealistic painter, among other things."

"I've never even heard of her," said Jack.

"Because her work is not usually allowed to be captured by anything but the human senses. She is well known, but only in certain artistic circles. Sensory artists, aesthetically elite, cosmic bohemians, and others of a type," said Ramirez.

"I'll bite," said Jack. "Why the hell was Miranda looking for her?"

"Because she painted this," said Ramirez.

He pulled up a haptic display, indexed to an image, and turned the display to Jack. It was a bizarre painting of a young woman performing a sex act on another while an eye peered through their window, dripping a single tear.

"That's creepy as fuck and also really hot," said Jack. "It's the kind of art I might own if I ever owned art, but why would Miranda be interested in this shit? Is there some secret message or code embedded in the image?"

"No codes," said Ramirez.

"So this is all you have?" asked Jack.

"This is all I have," admitted Ramirez. "However, if you will look closely at the subject of this painting, the one on the receiving end of the…"

"You mean the girl getting off?" sneered Jack.

Ramirez adjusted the haptic display so that the image zoomed in on the subject's face.

"Holy shit," said Jack. "That looks like Shepard, I mean… yea, yea, that's supposed to be Shepard, I think."

"That was also Ms. Lawson's belief," said Ramirez.

Jack shrugged. "So what? The whole galaxy is jerking off to Shepard these days. There's even a whole series of movies."

"But this was painted in 2171," said Ramirez.

Jack stared at it again. "No shit, and she does look pretty young in this. So, this Olivia, she knew Shepard, or knew of her way back when, but what does this have to do with Cerberus?"

"Another of my contacts captured a Cerberus agent shortly after the war," said Ramirez. "The agent was seeking Olivia Free, but before he could be questioned on the matter, one of his eyes detonated."

"Fucking Mordin, that's the gift that keeps on giving," complained Jack.

Ramirez deactivated the haptic console. "Goodbye, Ms. Nought."

"If you hear anything," said Jack

Ramirez frowned. "I shall not, nor shall I hear from you, ever again."

"Whatever," she said.

Jack exited the room. At last, she had a lead. It wasn't much, but it was more than she expected.

* * *

Benning was the breadbasket of the Alliance. A colony world over twice the size of Earth, its small population coupled with automated agricultural systems had created the largest food surpluses in the galaxy. Huge granaries and storage facilities dotted the planet, and for some reason no one could understand, the Reapers hadn't destroyed them. Some Alliance brass suspected that the presence of Cerberus spared the food supplies, though others flatly denied it. No one wanted a scrap of credit to go to Cerberus for anything, and Jack was fine with that.

As soon as the Arcturus Relay opened, a mad rush for Benning ensued. The planet, which once housed just over a two million human colonists, mostly farmers, was now crowded with hundreds of millions of hungry aliens and humans hoping to find employment on a farm, or else find farmland of their own. Some were referring to the influx as the great Farm Rush. Massive tent cities and makeshift shanty towns dotted the landscape, and the planet's capital, Joughin, had become the most overpopulated city in Alliance space, perhaps even the galaxy.

Space in Joughin was at a premium, and rent was off the charts. Pre-fab apartments built for a family of four were routinely housing a dozen or more tenants. Prices were in the stratosphere, jobs were scarce, and the most unsavory dives were popping up everywhere. You could buy anything on Benning—drugs, stolen goods, illegal tech, even slaves if you knew where to look. The inhabitants of Benning joked that it was easier to find a strip club or a prostitute in Joughin than a glass of clean water.

Jack stayed clear of the water. She found herself sipping a tin of grain alcohol in a dark corner of a bar that smelled like a Vorcha's armpit. Every reference to Olivia Free that she could find referred to Benning, but that was before the Reaper Invasion. Chances were that Olivia was either dead or stuck on some world behind a broken relay, but Jack remembered the apple that Miranda brought her, and the meal she cooked. It all led back to Benning, back to this place. It wasn't much, but it was all she had.

She'd been kicking around the planet for two days, pushing around little people, handing out credits when she could, but it wasn't easy going. She'd lost her knack for connecting with the kind of people she used to roll with. Maybe Ramirez was right, maybe she couldn't go back, but what choice did she have?

' _Fucking hell, Miri. Why didn't you talk to me?_ '

Jack knew the answer of course. If Miranda had mentioned she was tracking down a substantial Cerberus lead…

A boy's shaky voice interrupted her thought. "Are you Jack?"

The kid had slipped into the booth across from her. He couldn't have been more than sixteen years old and a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. There was a bruise on his face, a swollen lip, and the familiar vacant eyes of an opioid addict. Drugs like heroine had been out of style for a century, but they were cheap, and in desperate times it was all that most junkies could hope to score; aside from huffing industrial chemicals.

Jack steeled herself. She couldn't show weakness, not even to this poor kid.

"What the fuck do you want, boy? Are you looking to get hurt?"

He bit his lip. "If you want, I can let you, a lil' bit for fify, a lil' more for a cc, anything crazier has to go through Encia."

Jack felt sick to her stomach. She wasn't judging the kid, she'd been this kid. That's what made it worse.

"Who's Encia?" asked Jack.

The kid pointed out an Asari working the bar. She looked hard, probably an Eclipse cast off from one of the fleets. Most of the mercs that Shepard had procured from Aria T'Loak were stuck here, especially Eclipse, because the Asari military refused to make room for them on the ships they sent to repair the Exodus Relay. Forced to make it on their own, the mercs often returned to their criminal roots.

"Listen, not much interested in the first offer, but maybe you can help me out. I'm looking for someone…"

The kid got up and bolted before Jack even dropped a name.

"Fuck," she said.

It seemed that everyone on Joughin was allergic to talking. Jack pushed the cup away and left the table. She made her way out the back entrance of the bar and into an alley. Several homeless were curled up under the eaves in plastic sheets. Five of them were sharing a bottle. It was raining. She stopped for a minute to catch some drops on her tongue.

"I wouldn't do that," said a voice. "Nitrogen dioxide."

Jack turned to a man on the opposite side of the alley. She couldn't make out his face in the dark.

He leaned forward into the dim light and spoke again. "Acid rain."

"Oh, thanks," she said.

He stepped back into the darkness before speaking again. "Trash compactors, around the corner in five."

He was gone.

Jack found the trash compactors ten minutes later. The man was waiting for her.

"You're late," he said.

She shrugged. "Sorry, buddy, I don't know my way around here in the dark."

"I'd learn your way around, and fast, that is, if you want my help," said the man.

"No games," said Jack. "What's your name and what do you want."

The man stepped forward. He was a skinny guy, tall, with black skin and heavy African features.

"The name's Chico," he said. "You've been asking around about a woman named Olivia."

Jack was skeptical "You know her?"

Chico shook his head. "Never heard of her."

"Then why are you bothering me?" she asked.

"I need something, and I know people, people with information. You do something for me, I can hook you up with them," he said.

Jack laughed. "How about I just find them on my own?"

"You won't," said Chico. "Your skin is hard, but your eyes so soft. If I were you, I'd put on some shades and show more skin."

"So, now you're a fucking fashion advisor?"

"Just saying it like I see it," said Chico. "You want my help or not?"

"Depends on what you need," said Jack.

"I know who you are," said Chico. "Big alliance hero, powerful biotic. I need you to kill someone."

Jack laughed. "I have soft eyes, but you want to hire me to put someone down?"

Chico shrugged. "Soft eyes say you'll care about this, because she deserves it, Encia. You saw the kid. There are others, dozens."

"So you're what, a rival pimp?" asked Jack.

The man shook his head and lifted his shirt, exposing a chest covered in fresh scar tissue. "She got hold of my little sister. I tried to get her back. I can handle myself, but Encia is biotic. She knocked me through a wall, by the time I got out of the hospital, my sister was gone; a bad customer."

Jack was silent.

Chico nodded at the trash compactors. "That's where Encia tossed her body, about three weeks ago. I've been praying for justice ever since, and now you come to town asking questions, and come right to her place, and I got what you need. It's meant to be."

"You're pretty sure I'll do this," said Jack.

"They're children," said Chico.

"Yea," said Jack. "I got that."

Chico handed her a thin datacard. "This is where she lives. The authorities don't follow up on murders in this part of the city unless it's an Alliance rep or someone else connected or out of place. She'll close up and go out the back in two hours, usually with two bodyguards, but they ain't nothing special. Nobody here can afford the real deal anymore, not even Encia. I've marked all the routes she takes home. The other address is where I'll be when it's done."

Chico held out his hand. Jack hesitated for a moment, then took it. He nodded, then ran off into the rain. The city swallowed him in seconds. Jack waved the card near her pad and looked over the data. Ten minutes later she was walking one of Encia's routes.

' _I can fucking do this, easy,_ ' she told herself.

Sliding her hand over her M-6, she inhaled, exhaled, and thought about that kid who sat across from her. It'd been almost two years since she'd killed anything but Cerberus husks or Reapers, but this was righteous, a good way to get her feet wet, a good way to get the scent back. She'd killed dozens, maybe hundreds of mercs with Shepard, and none of them had it coming like this one did.

The more she thought about it, the better it sounded. If she did this, word would get around. Even if Chico's contacts didn't pan out, someone else might start talking. Really, she should have thought of it earlier, maybe she should have done it right there in the bar.

She'd been wasting her time for weeks, just like Ramirez said, screaming at stupid secretaries and low ranking Alliance officials who'd done nothing more than schedule Miranda's flights and meetings. All she'd managed to do was piss off Hackett and everyone else who'd cut her a break and wiped her criminal record.

' _You've been a stupid asshole,_ ' she told herself.

Maybe Ramirez was right, maybe she should have reached out to one of Shepard's people, someone like Liara, or Williams. Would they even help? She hadn't considered it. She was too new to their game, the good guys. No, it was better this way. She wasn't one of them, not really. This was familiar.

She walked the three routes in the rain. By the time she made it back to the bar, Encia was seeing herself out. Jack had picked a vantage point well out of sight. Two men were with Encia, both human. One was big, slow, the other didn't look like much. Jack waited, watching the Asari until she committed to a route. Jack was in luck, she'd chosen the one route with the location that best suited Jack's style.

She went the other way, behind a block of prefabs, up a metal latter, and across the rooftops. It was a little tricky to jump across the rooftops in the rain, but the adrenaline kept her warm. The last jump required a little biotic boost, which really gave a thrill. Jack had been working on using her biotics for mobility, especially since she'd seen the Justicar, Samara, in action. The crazy Asari could practically use her biotics to fly; talk about cool.

The alley she chose was clear, aside from three hairy dudes tripping on a hallucinogenic. Jack thought about shooing them away, but realized she didn't have time to deal with them. She decided on a straight up confrontation, no hiding or sniping. She placed herself at the back end of the alley and waited. Encia and her two men approached, all but ignoring Jack until they were close. Jack stepped into their path, blocking the way forward.

It was clear the Asari hadn't been challenged in some time. There was no fear in her eyes. She fingered the Acolyte pistol at her side and smirked. Jack's shockwave wiped the expression clean. Though Encia managed to get her barrier up in time, her two men weren't so fortunate. Jack's blow knocked them over fifteen meters down the alley. The sound of breaking bones echoed between the buildings.

Encia jabbed at Jack with a feeble biotic throw that had no chance.

"That's all you got?" asked Jack.

The Asari hurled a string of expletives and began blasting with her pistol. Jack shrugged off the inaccurate shots with ease and shredded Encia's barrier with a warp. Jack followed up by lifting the former merc into the air and unleashing another shockwave, which detonated the biotic energies encasing her and drove the Asari hard into the wall of the alley, crushing her spine and cracking her skull.

She was barely conscious when Jack closed in for the kill. She looked up at Jack through clouded eyes, blood dripping from her mouth. The Asari gasped her last breath, then worked her mouth around a word.

"Why?"

The only answer Encia received was the report of a pistol. The shot from the Carnifex splattered blue goop all over the street. One of bodyguards, who'd apparently landed badly, was choking to death on his own blood. Jack turned her back on the scene and walked away while the three hallucinating idiots screamed and ranted like madmen. She'd just given them the worst trip of their lives.

She'd put two blocks behind her, took a left turn onto another street, just as she planned, and passed a row of disabled vehicles. As soon as she cleared the last ruined hulk, her guts started to churn and she became dizzy. She tried to take a breath, but instead, gagged, then vomited, spraying all that remained of her afternoon lunch against a nearby wall. A cool sweat commingled with the wet rain on her face. She shivered.

' _What the hell is wrong with you?_ ' she wondered.

A kill like that, so just, so righteous, so straightforward—should've felt good. It had always felt good before, but not now. It felt like shit. The sight of the Asari's brains on the pavement rattled her. It was fucked up, ugly, wrong. She didn't like it.

'Y _ou've let yourself turn into some kind of pussy,_ ' thought Jack.

Her heart was pounding as she ran several blocks back to her room, a tiny little cubby not much larger than a box. The hotel room, if it could be called that, had a fold out bunk, a toilet, and a tiny washing area with a mirror and a drain on the floor. The sink's water tap was detachable, so it could be pulled away and used as a makeshift shower. Jack peeled off her clothes and did just that.

Afterwards, she found herself staring in the mirror, wondering who it was looking back at her. The whole universe was upside down. Her life no longer made sense, she didn't make sense. For several seconds she wondered if she'd picked up a stray hit from one of the three drug users. She checked her skin for tags—nothing.

"Get your shit together, Jennifer," she said out loud.

It took her exactly three heartbeats to realize what she'd done, what she'd called herself. She stared at the woman in the mirror again. The hair stood out. It was long, attractive, and when it was styled, a tad on the conservative side. It suited a professional, a lawyer, maybe a doctor; definitely a schoolteacher. The eyes were soft, weepy, reeking of compassion. What Miranda was to her, what the kids were to her, was written all over her face.

She didn't want to go back to the creature she had been. She wanted to climb out of this fucking sewer of a city, get off this planet, and never look back, but more than that, she wanted to find Miranda. She wanted her back. The water dripping off her skin brought back the memories, the shower, the room, and all the soft whispers that passed between them. She felt herself starting to cry.

"FUCK!" she screamed, as loud as she could.

She punched the mirror, shattering it with her fist. Blood streaked off her knuckles.

The problem before her was this. She wanted Miranda back, but she couldn't pull it off, not like this, not as the person she'd become. Looking back into the shattered reflection in the mirror, she realized what she needed to do, who she needed to be. The timer on her pad beeped, reminding her of her meeting with Chico.

Jack searched her bag for a blade. Once she had her hand around it, she used the auxiliary port on her pistol to power the mass sharpener from her toolkit. With it, she honed her blade to a razor edge. It took her awhile, but she managed to find a spot on the mirror that still gave a decent reflection. Using the knife, she shredded off big chunks of her hair, throwing it into the trash. Once she got it down to a short, manageable mop, she lathered it up, and started shaving.

Five minutes later, her scalp was bare. Rubbing her hand over her smooth head, she sneered at her reflection, flipped it the bird, and posed a little. It wasn't quite right. Maybe Chico was onto something—sunglasses, a visor maybe?

Staring at her clothes, she grabbed the military style pants she'd packed, but never intended to wear. She put them on, then laced up her boots. She rummaged through some shirts, a few jackets, and then stopped herself and grabbed a belt instead. She buckled up, slipped her gun into its holster, and stared into the mirror again.

Holstering, and unholstering the weapon, she managed a barrage of posturing that was damn near intimidating. The bare chest was working a little bit. She pinched her nipples, turned sideways, and thrust her small breasts out with bravado. It was all there, she looked the part, but the problem was, she didn't feel it. It felt like she'd forced herself into an old piece of clothing that was a little too tight, that she'd outgrown years ago. She wanted to put on a shirt and a jacket, but she fought the compulsion.

"Fuck it, I'm doing this," she said out loud, trying to convince herself that it was working.

She was out the door seconds later, running off to meet with Chico, running from herself.

* * *

 **Next: Mirror Mirror (Part 2)**


	26. Mirror, Mirror (Part Two)

_Mirror, Mirror, hanging there with that crack in your eye._

 _You make me stumble, make me blind._

 _Time after time, and line by line._

 _Take a look into my eyes, tell me what you see.  
Take a look into my eyes, tell me, is it true?_

 _Take a look into my eyes, when I look at you.  
Take a look into my eyes, tell me, is it me, is it really me?_

(Steve Clark, Joe Elliot, Rick Savage)

March 11th, 2188

 **Subject Zero**

* * *

Jack cleared the last of her credits out of her account and closed it. She was all in now, walking the thin line, hanging her bare ass out there, or to be more specific to her current situation—tits to the wind. She stepped out of the toll center checked her right and left flanks, fingered her pistol, and crossed the street. A cold wind ripped into her skin as she cursed herself for not bringing a jacket. The doorman, a heavily armed Krogan, looked her up and down, collected her pistol, scanned her into the system, and let her pass. Just like that, she was dead broke.

The stairwell to Planet Heaven was impressive, it wound around an old brass pole decorated with street lamps taken from the 9th Arrondissement of 19th century Paris, and it was claimed (though never verified) that several of the lamps hailed from 32 rue Richer, the sight of the Folies Bergèr. It exuded class, but the people who came here were anything but classy. They were a motley assortment of mercenaries, sex workers, pirates, assassins, and thieves. Fortunately, Jack fit right in, or at least she looked the part.

Jack hadn't been to a party like this in ages, but if it was anything like a gig she once attended on Anhur, she was in for a crazy night. She reminded herself that she had to cut loose if she wanted to fit in, and if she got out of there alive, well, that was just bonus. As the stairwell came to an end, a warm dark opening enveloped her, sucking her into a misty twilight of glitter lit by pulsing purple stars. Faces and bodies, alien and human floated around her.

Music throbbed through her very bones as she made her way to the central room, which was hung by huge crystal lanterns strobing with light. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that some of these lanterns enclosed a blindfolded and nude Asari or Human dancer gyrating against the glass. Because the light was too bright to stare directly at them, Jack could only take in the dancers at a glance. It created a mystery effect, which was, no doubt, the intent of the designer.

Once she had finally given up at getting a good look at a dancer, she pushed her way through the crowd. Getting to the other end of the room was difficult. After nearly half an hour of being jostled back and forth, she finally reached the far right corner of the floor, which was fortunately all the way on the other side from the lavatories. A scanner beeped and the security guards let her through. The adjoining room was hot and littered with a maze of chairs and couches, several ensconced in dark corners where the bodies of casual lovers glistened with sweat.

Jack escaped the lounge area into the gallery, which had been her destination all along. The small room was filled with sculptures, paintings, holograms, and interactive menus. A variety of sounds chimed in the air as appreciators, many in an altered state, interacted with the displays. Worming her way through the various works of art, she found the series of paintings and sculptures she'd been seeking for days.

Olivia Free's work was enticing, definitely right up Jack's alley. Barbed wire and ink on soft flesh, DNA strands worked into coded machine language, weeping eyes, several transfigurations of the nipples, tongue, and clitoris, and through it all, the unrelenting deluge of pain—but it wasn't an artist who wallowed in her pain, rather she viewed pain as vessel of freedom, the key to escape the prison of perfunctory routine existence, particularly human existence.

The painting she'd seen before was here, this time the original, in full, glorious detail. The rendition of Shepard was incredible, so vivid, so true, except that this was a different Shepard, a younger Shepard, and above all, an angrier Shepard. At first glance, on the computer, Jack had assumed the obvious, but now that she saw the picture in person she realized what she had missed.

Though the sexual component was more visually present than ever, the expression on Shepard's face wasn't pleasure or satisfaction, but rather pain, extreme pain, and perhaps bitterness as well. The other woman in the picture, the one performing the sexual act upon Shepard, was nearly invisible, and yet she was ever present. It felt as if…

"You get this, don't you?" asked a man.

The voice was familiar, Jack began to turn.

"Do not," said Ramirez.

"What the hell are you doing here?" asked Jack.

"Following up on a lead for another client," said Ramirez. "You have to realize, you aren't the only one looking for Olivia Free."

Jack wished she had her gun on her. "If you try to cockblock me, I'll kill you."

Ramirez chuckled. "You will find that I am a lot more difficult to eliminate than some ex merc turned slaver."

"You've been following me," said Jack.

"Only the trail you have left behind," said Ramirez. "In fact, one finds it difficult to avoid. My client, my actual client, is concerned about this, and for you. Otherwise I would have avoided you like the plague. This is a dangerous place, Ms. Nought, especially for people who leave such wide wakes."

"Who is your client?" asked Jack.

Ramirez laughed. "Really, now."

Jack was frustrated. "You're fucking everything up by being here."

"Am I?" asked Ramirez. "What did you expect to do here, show up at this gallery, flash your bare breasts, and find someone who knows Olivia? Perhaps you think that the artist herself will be present? How foolish, how juvenile, how obvious. You lack the sophistication required for this work, Ms. Nought. You are but a blunt instrument, and you have exhausted your resources. Save yourself, go home and reach out to your former associates, or friends if you will."

"You keep beating this drum," said Jack. "I don't know why, but I'm not leaving until I get answers."

"As I suspected," said Ramirez. "In that case, I will throw you a bone, on the condition that you receive it with wariness."

"Just give it to me, asshole," said Jack.

"As I said, Olivia Free expresses her art in many forms, most sensual, as you can tell by the dancing chandeliers she designed."

"Dancing… oh, you mean the lanterns with the strippers in them," said Jack.

"Yes," said Ramirez. "On the north side of the city is an establishment known for its extreme acts of eroticism, but it is no mere strip bar, or brothel. It is seedy, yes, but seedy with an edge. It has turned seediness…"

Jack caught his meaning. "Into an art form."

"There is a rumor that Olivia frequents the establishment for inspiration," said Ramirez.

"If you think I'm going there undercover, fuck off! I'm not climbing a pole or shaking my ass for anyone," said Jack.

Ramirez laughed. "Do not be ridiculous. No one would ever mistake you for a dancer. I am merely suggesting you go there as a customer, throw some credits around, ask some questions in your usual, crude manner."

Jack stared ahead. "I won't find anything that way, you know it. You just want me to shake the tree so you can catch something as it's falling out. Then you'll run with the prize, leave me high and dry."

"I will not, that I promise," said Ramirez. "As you say, shake the tree, and let us do the rest. Have no fear. My client does not abandon resources, not even blunt instruments."

"Asshole," muttered Jack.

"The account you just emptied," said Ramirez. "I have taken the liberty to re-open it. I have also deposited ten thousand credits in it. Consider those credits a retainer fee for your services."

"Just like that?" said Jack.

"Just like that," said Ramirez.

"What's the catch?" wondered Jack.

"The catch is that you do exactly as you are asked to do, and nothing more. If you make a contact, do not follow up. Bring the contact to me, and I will do a thorough investigation before we proceed. As I have noted, you have left a wide wake in your path. It may attract undue attention, the kind of attention we do not want," said Ramirez.

Jack bit her lip. She could go along with this, for now. It's all she had.

"Deal," she said.

"Do not shake my hand," said Ramirez.

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Jack.

Ramirez chuckled softly, then he was gone. Jack stared at the art for a few more minutes before she rejoined the central party. She took her time, enjoyed herself, danced a little, and left. She made sure nobody followed her back to her hotel. A quick check of her account confirmed that Ramirez was being straight. As soon as her head hit the pillow she was asleep. It was the first time she slept through the night since she'd come to Benning.

* * *

Her alarm went off at 0527, which confused her at first because she'd set it for 0700. It took her a few seconds to shake off the grogginess, and then it hit her. It was her warning alarm. She'd tipped the hotel clerk an extra thirty credits per day per day to look out for her, let her know if anyone was coming her way. He'd just done his job by signaling her.

Jack had her escape route well planned. This hotel had ventilation shafts on the west side that were just large enough to squeeze her wiry frame through. She'd dislodged the vent above the sink, cleared the passage of hazards that would have sliced her open in an emergency scramble, and found the quickest route to the storage closet. The storage closet had a laundry shoot that dumped onto the first floor. From the laundry room she could be out the back, across the alley, and up one of the ladders to the rooftops in no time at all.

There were boots in the hallway by the time she was in the shaft, pulling the vent grill shut behind her with the cord she attached to it. She'd only had time to grab her pack and her gun. The rest of her stuff, her data pad, her clothes and extra gear, were still in the room. Jack slithered through the vent cursing under her breath. She was still covered in night sweat, and had nothing on but a pair of skivvies, but that wasn't even the worst part.

' _Fucking shoes,_ ' she thought to herself.

She didn't have any shoes, which was a real problem in a city as cluttered as Joughin. She thought about the alley and the rooftops, and all the debris and broken glass she might come across and cursed again. However, there was no going back. She could hear the intruders banging on the door of her room.

"City security, open up in the name of the law!" someone shouted.

Jack had no idea what the police could want with her. There were no reliable witnesses when she put down the Asari, and even if there were, it was unlikely the authorities had any interest in getting justice for a low life like Encia. Still, she wasn't going to stick around to find out. She dropped into the storage room, opened the laundry shoot, and dove in.

It was both fortunate and unfortunate that the bottom of the chute was clogged. The laundry backing up the shoot allowed for a soft stop, but it took her nearly a minute to kick the shoot clear. She managed to grab a handful of clothes for good measure. By the time she ran across the alley, several cops were already in the area. Fortunately, they were focused on the back entrance of the hotel and not the laundry door which didn't have a connection to the rest of the building as far as they knew. It was just pure fucking luck that Jack made it to the roof of the next building without being seen.

She was seven blocks away by the time she felt confident enough to slow down. She was off the rooftops now, and found some shelter so she could sit down and go through the clothes she'd grabbed. She managed to fit into a pair of pants, they were baggy on her, but she used a cord from her pack to secure them. In addition, she put on sweatshirt that was mixed into the mess.

Jack thought about what to do for some time. She knew it would be stupid to try to access the money in her account, so she let it alone. For all she knew, the information that Ramirez had given her was bad, but she had to go anyway. If Ramirez had the police in his pocket, she was fucked no matter how she cut it, so she might as well follow up on the lead he'd handed her. She was counting on the fact that he was cocky enough to feed her real information while he was working out his double cross.

It was just before noon when she figured out his play. The news around town was that a one of a kind painting was stolen from a private party the night before. The authorities had a suspect in the case and were looking into it.

' _Fucking Ramirez set me up,_ ' she thought.

Jack knew which painting had gone missing. She knew that she was on camera staring at the painting, that Ramirez had probably known just were to stand so the cameras couldn't identify him, and then there was the matter of the credits transferred to her account. It all looked bad for her. Of course she hadn't stolen the painting and eventually she'd be released, but Jack had no intention of spending three days in a cell while the trail went cold.

* * *

Jack reached her backup cache just after 1300. She'd left a bag of clothes, portable credits, and another piece in a locker near the transport station just in case. She dressed, wrapped herself in an overcoat and a bandana, counted out her cash, and made her way across town.

She reached the Tarnished Treasure just in time for the afternoon shift change. Jack watched the girls who worked the slow shift shuffle off to their various rides and routes home. After she found a good place to stash her coat and weapons, she hit the door, paid the cover charge, and entered the club. She was stopped just inside the entrance by a muscular woman who stared her down. The woman handed Jack a tape dispenser.

"Dim the headlights, bad boy, this isn't amateur night," she said.

Jack did as the woman asked and went inside. She found a dark corner and made herself inconspicuous. A few minutes later she had a drink in her hand, the first decent beer she'd tasted in months. It was all she could do not to inhale it as she took in the scene.

Jack had been around, seen her fair share of dives, but never anything like this. The Tarnished Treasure was a special kind of trash. Every dancer appeared to be a human female. There was no pretense of class, no aesthetic in outfits, and certainly no discretion. The art of the tease seemed to escape them. The pole dancing was outrageously bad, what little they wore when they hit the stage was discarded within seconds, and the finale of each dance ended with what amounted to a public gynecological exam. It was so nauseating at times that Jack had to avert her eyes.

As was customary, a few girls approached her for a private dance. Jack was savvy enough to realize she'd maintain a low profile by obliging every once in a while. She also paid for a few more beers, nursing them at a rate of thirty minutes a pop. The more time passed, the more she began to realize that Ramirez completely fucked her over. If there ever was a lead here, it had been dead long ago. She was about to leave when a huge man in a fancy suit flopped onto a couch next to her.

"You're out of place," he said.

Jack sniped at him. "And you're not?"

"I'm just here to see Nikki," said the man. "She's the only reason to come to the Titty."

"The what?"

"Damn, you are an out of tower," he said. "The Tarnished Treasure, the TT, hence…"

Jack rolled her eyes. "Ah, yea, Titty, I get it; real clever."

"It is what it is," said the man. "Mostly trash, all tarnished and no treasure, except for Nikki."

Jack was intrigued. "So, she's pretty special eh?"

"Beyond," said the man.

"So, what's she doing here?" asked Jack.

"Not sure," said the man. "But maybe it has to do with nostalgia, maybe she's trying to relieve the past. Believe it or not, this used to be a classy joint."

Jack laughed. "Really, now?"

The man nodded. "Before the Reaper War, it was pretty avant-garde. Cutting edge eroticism, truly, more performance art than actual dancing. There was all kinds of crazy stuff, including these twin sisters who did this insane bondage act. It was a bizarre hybrid of sleaze and style."

Jack pushed for more info. "What did they do?"

"You name it," said the man. "I could never quite decide if it was a magic show, a circus act, a striptease, or a full on sex show. They were tying each other up with barbed wire, swimming in tanks full of electric eels, juggling knives, doing some crazy fire eating act, and not just with their mouths if you know what I mean."

"No shit," said Jack. "You said they were twins? As in real sisters?"

"Identical," said the man. "That's what put it over the edge."

"That's kind of sick," said Jack.

The man laughed. "Yea, if you really think about it, I suppose it was pretty twisted, but it was also art, I mean, real art. You never knew when you were going to be shocked or deeply moved. Back in those days this place was packed."

Jack nodded. "And now?"

"Nothing," said the man. "Then, a few weeks ago, this Nikki shows up, and she's doing all kinds of cool stuff. Not only that, she's occasionally available in the VIP room to select customers. I'm not exactly sure how it works, but word is getting around. Customers are coming back."

Jack tried not to get her hopes up, but she couldn't control it. Her heart double timed. This could be exactly what she'd been looking for, this Nikki.

Jack wondered. "How long until she's on stage?"

"Any time now," said the man. "Notice how this place is starting to fill up?"

Jack looked around the room. He was right. In just ten minutes the room had doubled in occupancy. Moreover, the reek of desperation had subsided. There was a different air to the place, anticipation, perhaps even nervous energy. Jack moved closer to the main stage and ordered another beer. It was gone in just a few minutes. She ordered another out of habit. By the time Nikki took the stage Jack had a nice buzz going.

As soon as she was announced the crowd erupted. She emerged from a gauze curtain, clad in a tight black bodysuit. The hair, the figure, the walk, everything about her was riveting, even in silhouette. More than that, it was all instantly familiar to Jack. Time slowed, her heart nearly seized.

She fumbled over the words. "Miri?"

Jack was somewhere between confusion and joy when the lights hit Nikki and the bottom fell out. It wasn't Miranda's face. Jack slumped in her chair. Was it just her mind playing tricks on her then? The strange woman, familiar and unfamiliar, began to dance. It was classier than anything else Jack had seen in this joint, and a hell of a sight sexier as well. She couldn't exactly call it art, but…

The bodysuit melted off Nikki's skin as the audience gasped with delight. Tendrils of smoke curled off her naked flesh as she whipped her hair around and climbed the pole. Jack was trying to work out the trick when Nikki spun herself around the pole with near impossible velocity. A flicker of blue energy, nearly imperceptible, arced from her fingertips and toes. Jack would have missed it were it not for her trained eye.

The dancer was clearly biotic, and not just any low grade biotic using little tricks. Her control was too precise; to disguise her abilities the way she did took real mastery. Jack was hypnotized by the performance and by the woman herself. Perhaps it was Jack's mind playing tricks on her, or maybe the skill of the dancer to capture her audience, but Jack felt as if Nikki was watching her the entire time, performing just for her. Jack was completely engrossed and more than a little turned on.

The music ended abruptly as Nikki vanished from the stage. A hush fell over the room, followed by a chorus of disappointed whispers and sighs. Jack ordered another beer and tried to formulate a plan. She didn't have the cash to get into the VIP room, but she desperately needed to talk to this woman. Eyeing the bouncers, she began to weigh her chances of getting into the back without being seen. Before she could make her move, another dancer approached her, pressing a slim metal card into Jack's hand.

"What's this?" asked Jack.

"It's a pass to the private rooms, courtesy of Nikki," said the dancer.

Jack was confused. "How?"

"You must be pretty special honey," said the woman.

"Right," said Jack.

Something was off, but she couldn't help herself. She found herself elbowing customers as she cut her way across the crowded room. Jack was moving closer to the VIP door when a woman appeared in her peripheral vision. She was evading two bouncers who were in hot pursuit. Jack saw a tuft of red hair, a flash of green eyes, and a well-proportioned celestial nose. Time stood still. It just wasn't possible.

Jack was bewildered. "Shepard?"

"It's a trap! Run, Jack, run!" shouted the Commander.

As soon as the words left her mouth, the bodyguards pounced on her. Shepard was overwhelmed in an instant. How was that possible? How was any of this possible? The universe had stopped making sense. At that very instant the doors to the VIP lounge burst open. Armed soldiers spilled into the room. It was immediately obvious to Jack who they were.

"Fucking Cerberus!" she snarled.

She got her barrier up just in time. All hell broke loose as the soldiers opened fire into the crowd. Mass Effect rounds ripped through dozens of innocent bystanders as main floor transformed into a slaughterhouse. There was no chance of protecting the people around her, so Jack took the only option available and attacked with all the ferocity she could muster. Her shockwave slammed into the Cerberus soldiers, knocking them off balance.

She followed up by hitting the front man with a warp before he could recover, and then, using something from her new bag of tricks, she ripped him off his feet, sending him into the ceiling before returning him to the floor at terminal velocity. He made a sickening thud when he struck. The resulting biotic detonation staggered the soldiers who were only just recovering from her initial shockwave.

Jack went hard at the remaining four soldiers, consistently hitting them with enough force to keep them off balance. As soon she'd finished them off, she realized that the two bouncers had taken Shepard out of the room. How? Shepard should have torn those fools apart.

' _Maybe she's hurt,_ ' though Jack, ' _or drugged, or… not Shepard._ "

As Jack fled the club, the last thought resonated. The woman had Shepard's face, but her cry was desperate, frightened. She was running from the two men. Shepard, the real Shepard, would have taken their heads off. Jack recalled the incident on the Citadel just days before the party and decided that she'd been taken in by another Cerberus trick, another clone. But why had the faux Shepard warned her? Perhaps this one had enough of the real Shepard in her that she didn't feel like playing along, or else this was a setup. It didn't matter. Jack went after her.

She was outside of the club moments later, pushing passed panicked customers who were fleeing for their lives. She glanced around and spotted the Shepard ringer being stuffed into the back of a vehicle. She also noticed something else she could work with. As the vehicle lifted off, Jack made a dash for her bag, the one she'd stowed away before entering the club. Once she had a weapon in hand, she moved quickly to her next objective.

One of the customers had just put on his helmet and was about to escape the chaos on his skycycle. It was a hell of a bike, a 2177 Cloud Iron. Before he knew it, the poor bastard was on the ground and Jack had his ride. He'd done her the solid of starting it up for her.

"Thanks buddy!" Jack shouted as she revved the turbines.

She dropped the gravity clutch and launched into the city skyscape hot in pursuit of ringer Shepard and her captors. The skybike screamed through the air, passing 250kph in mere seconds.

Jack couldn't help herself. "HELL YES!" she screamed, as she blazed across the rooftops.

* * *

One of the side benefits of Joughin's poverty was low traffic, even at rush hour. This worked to Jack's advantage, allowing her to maintain plenty of distance from the vehicle without losing it. She followed it all the way to the southern edge of the city and beyond before it finally set down in a mansion located on the high coastal bluffs. Jack cut the throttle and allowed herself to gently glide into a row of trees that hedged the opposite street.

Ditching the bike, she crossed the street, careful to stay out of sight. The walls to the mansion were fairly secure, so she circumnavigated it cautiously, searching for a weak spot. Her first instinct was to batter down the walls and crush every Cerberus bastard that she came across, but charging in blind probably wasn't the best call. There was always a chance for booby traps, perhaps explosives, maybe even a mech or two.

She found a gate near the back wall which led to a pool area. This was the perfect spot to make her approach. The security console was old school, easily exploited by an Omni-tool hack. It took only a few seconds to blind the security system and unlock the gate. Once she was in, she took a casual stroll across the pool deck. There were no guards in sight.

The back of the mansion had two entrances on the ground floor. She ignored both, choosing to climb to the deck on the second floor. It was an easy enough route. Soon she was at a door that appeared to be unlocked. The second floor windows were tinted, which made her nervous. She moved quickly to the door, checked it, and entered. The room was dark, and unfortunately, she had no visor or goggles with her. She hadn't really been prepared for an op like this.

Jack felt for the counter, dropped low, and slid along the floor just in case there were monitors on the other side of the room. The more time passed without resistance, the more nervous she became. She should have run into at least a couple security guys by now, so either Cerberus had gotten really sloppy, or she'd royally fucked up by breaking into the wrong home. Of course there was also a third option that she didn't want to think about.

The door buzzed, then latched. Seconds later the lights came on. This was not good, not good at all. Jack clutched her pistol, tensed, and prepared for the worst. She was in it now, having apparently walked right into a trap. She popped up from behind the counter, barrier up, finger hovering just over the trigger. The room was empty, aside from a woman sitting comfortably on a white vinyl couch. She wore a black bodysuit that looked like it had literally been painted on her body. It left nothing at all to the imagination.

Jack had seen that outfit earlier in the evening. She'd been thoroughly entertained, even titillated by the method of its removal. Unfortunately, it was a lot less enticing at the moment. The woman who wore it stared menacingly at Jack, her mouth leering in a mock grin.

"Nikki," said Jack.

"Actually, it's Michelle," said the woman. "Commander Michelle Nicholas, Cerberus, pleased to meet you."

Jack snorted. "Fuck you."

The woman's grin widened. "Unfortunately, you already missed out on that opportunity when my asset went haywire. I was so looking forward to our little encounter in the VIP lounge. I was going to make it memorable for you."

Jack glanced around the room. As far as she could tell there was no backup. What game was Nicholas playing? Jack thought about shooting her on the spot, but her barrier was up, and it was probably strong if the skills she displayed during her dance were any indication.

"Lower your weapon," said Nicholas. "I'd like to have a little heart to heart before I kill you."

Jack laughed. "Talk about what? Unless you plan on telling me your entire evil plot, I'm really not interested."

"I can do that," said Nicholas. "Well, the most interesting parts anyway."

"So after I beat your ass down, I can give it to the Alliance? I like the sound of that," said Jack.

"I'll record it for you, if you like," said Nicholas. "Shell 2, code 14 Nicholas, Theta 1, begin recording—video and audio."

Her insolence pissed Jack off. "Who the hell are you?"

"I am the future face of Cerberus," said Nicholas. "The next generation in human progress."

"All I see is a Cerberus bitch," said Jack.

Nicholas chuckled. "Protest if you must, but I saw the way you looked at me when I was on stage. I felt what you wanted from me. I am, after all, a lot like your Miranda, though vastly improved."

"No fucking chance," said Jack. "You aren't even close to being in her league."

"Judging by the way I put her under foot, I think she would disagree," said Nicholas.

Jack choked on bile. "If you've hurt her I'll tear you to fucking pieces."

"Oh, I haven't begun to hurt her, not yet," said Nicholas. "But this is where it starts, and you're going to be part of it. You see, that's why I wanted to record this. Before I begin with her, I am going to make her watch this, me killing you, slowly, painfully. I'll put it on loop in her little cell, so she won't be able to shut out your screams."

Jack wasn't going to listen to another word. She opened fire with phased rounds, intent on shredding the Cerberus agent's barrier. Her Carnifex pulsed as her finger drew lightly on the trigger, but somehow instead of hitting home, they merely shredded the couch where Nicholas had been sitting.

Nicholas appeared at Jack's location, biotic energy roiling off her in waves. The impact of her charge knocked Jack through the wall, tearing down her barrier. At least two of her ribs were broken in the process. Jack pushed through the pain, unleashing a warp as she scrambled out of the ruins of the wall. Nicholas was too fast, too maneuverable. She dashed around Jack as the warp field curved, then hit a nearby fish tank, sending shards of glass and colorful scales flying.

Jack tried to pull her barrier back together, but got tagged with an energy field that drained it away completely, blistering the skin on her arms. Nicholas was using a biotic reave more powerful than anything Jack had ever encountered before. She was in trouble. Her only chance was to get out of the line of fire, get into cover and try to shake it off and recharge.

Nicholas caught her with a warp before she even took a step. Jack was blasted across the room. The flesh on her right forearm tore open, spraying a mist of blood around her. She bounced on the floor, knocking the air out of her lungs. It hurt like hell, but she knew pain, she could fight through pain, so she got on her feet, fast. Nicholas closed the distance as Jack activated her Omni-blade.

The blade hissed through the air, but again, Nicholas was too fast. Instead of a blade, the Cerberus agent utilized a small Omni-whip, wrapping it around Jack's already damaged arm. She managed to get Jack in an arm lock, which was no good. Jack tried to twist out of it, but Nicholas was too strong, too fast. She snapped Jack's arm like a twig. Jack screamed as she saw the shards of her right radius tearing through the flesh. Things went from worse to utter shit. A kidney punch put her on her knees.

Somehow, through all the pain, she managed to land a throw, but it was no match for the Cerberus bitch's barrier. Another charge, and this time Jack had no barrier for protection. The devastating strike shattered Jack's ribs. She was on her back, on the ground, struggling to draw air into battered and bruised lungs. Nicholas towered over her, drawing biotic energy around her fist, and then throwing it into Jack's face.

The force of the biotic assault was so devastating that it bounced Jacks head off the floor, knocking her senseless and fracturing her skull and jaw. She choked on the fragments of her own shattered teeth. She'd taken plenty of beatings in her life, but nothing like this. Even through the fog of her concussed brain, she began to realize that her life was nearing an end.

The fight knocked completely out of her, Jack went into flight mode. She managed to get herself on her belly and began slithering across the floor like a snake that had been run over. Nicholas was merciless. She followed close behind laughing at Jack's desperate crawl, using the advantage to unleash a seemingly endless barrage of powerful kicks into Jack's groin. The brutality of it was as jarring as the pain. She tried to cry out, but instead only managed to gag on the blood that was pooling in her throat and lungs. Mercifully, she lapsed into unconsciousness.

That's how Jack should have died, there on the floor, drowned in her own blood, but Nicholas was having none of it. The pitiless woman retrieved a medical kit and laid her victim out on the counter, reviving Jack via syringe, and then jabbing a device into her chest which extracted the blood and fluid from her lungs. Suddenly, Jack could breath, albeit painfully.

Nicholas mocked her. "You can't die yet, oh no, the show must go on for Miranda's sake."

Jack tried to mouth words without teeth or a jaw that would move. She ended up gurgling something in her throat instead. Nicholas withdrew a scalpel from her kit and held it out so Jack could see it.

Her voice softened to a sensual purr. "I'm going to make this last, and last, and last."

Jack's students had often referred to her as the psychotic biotic in jest, but this was for real. The woman who had beaten her was the true psychopath, and Jack had become her plaything. The irony was, that all the anger she had held in her life was utterly absent. Here at the end, amidst her suffering, Jack was finally at peace, free of hatred. All that she could think about was Miranda, her last thoughts would be for her, and love. Her whole life, her whole fucking life, the war, and now this.

The scalpel flashed, there was some pain, but it wasn't as bad as Nicholas bragged. Jack was escaping, into the dark, and beyond into the warm light. The Cerberus woman was cursing, and then the sound of gunfire, explosions, screams. Shards of the wall took flight above her face. A bomb? She was choking on her own blood again.

' _I'm sorry, Miri, I'm so sorry I couldn't save you.'_

"Medic! Medic!"

' _Whose voice is that?_ '

"Jack, do you hear me? This is James, James Vega. Stay with me, ok, stay with me!"

' _Like I even care anymore._ '

And then, at last, everything stopped and she let herself fall.

* * *

 **Up Next: Ashley Williams has to deal with a crazy Shepard clone, her relationship with the Shadow Broker, and a Cerberus saboteur.**


	27. Shard

_Ashley knows! Clone Shepard! And only 9 chapters left of Reaper Dreams as we race to the end. I felt this chapter was heavy with exposition, but both my betas seemed to like it..._

 _On a side note: A shard is a magical golem crafted by a powerful wizard-usually by stealing a person's dreams and then using cauldrons and blood and all of that. ;)_

* * *

" _The whole series of my life appeared to me as a dream; I sometimes doubted if indeed it were all true, for it never presented itself to my mind with the force of reality."_

Mary Shelly (Frankenstein)

March 12th, 2188

 **Captain Ashley Williams**

* * *

The hospital in Joughin was off the rails. Ashley was reminded of the holding areas on the Citadel during the Reaper War. As she passed down the corridor the hospital staff moved aside. Ashley wasn't sure if it was respect for her rank, or the huge marine on her right shoulder.

Sgt. Jengo Turay was an Alliance lifer, a hardened veteran with an icy stare that could make a Krogan step away. He was unusually dark skinned, even for an African, and he stood a few inches over seven feet. Ashley hadn't had a chance to get to know him yet, but in the two weeks he'd served under her command she'd yet to see him crack a smile. She planned to change that, eventually, when she had the time.

When they turned the corner into the ICU, she spotted one James Vega. He was still in full battle dress and surrounded by a compliment of armored soldiers—Krogan, Turian, Human, and even a few Asari Commandos. Ashley had grown accustomed to seeing a mix of aliens fighting together, but what she had never seen was a common uniform outside of C-Sec. The color scheme as well as the emblem on their armor was unified. They were all part of the same company.

As soon as James saw her, he saluted formally. "Captain, good to see you. Major James Vega, SGL," he said.

Ashely cocked her head. "Sorry, Major, I've been in deep space for the last few days. I must have missed the bulletin. SGL?"

"Strategic Galactic Legion," said James. "I know it's a mouthful, sounds stupid as hell, but that's the moniker the Council stuck on us, at least for now."

Ashley nodded. "The Alliance has initiated a blockade of Benning. Admiral Yuan gave me orders to assist you. I only had a brief communique that said the planet is under martial law. What the hell is going on?"

"Cerberus," said James. "Turns out we have solid information that they were behind the assassination of the President, among other things. We've been raiding facilities."

"Shit," said Ashley. "I knew it. How organized were they?"

"Too fucking organized," said James. "And as you know, you can't question the bastards. As soon as you capture them, their heads explode."

"Yea," said Ashley. "Ocular flashbangs, so how did you get two prisoners for transport?"

"Well, one of them is ex-Cerberus, name is Ramirez," said James. "We still haven't figured out how he's involved. And the other, well, are you ready for this?"

"Shoot," said Ashley.

"It's another Shepard clone," said James.

Ashley froze. "God, so that's what she meant."

James cocked an eyebrow. "Eh?"

"Long story," said Ashley. "Involves sour music, need I say more?"

"Mierda, you mean the big HER," sighed James. "Where the hell?"

"Don't ask," said Ashley.

James nodded. "We're loading the prisoners on your shuttle now. The Council wanted one of their Spectres to handle the interrogation."

"So why are we in the hospital?" asked Ashley.

James shook his head. "Somehow, Jack got mixed up in all of this. An operative pointed us in the direction of a Cerberus safe house that Jack was investigating, but we got there just a little bit too late."

Ashley frowned. "How bad is it?"

James shook his head. "Some Cerberus super solider did a number on her. I don't know if she's going to make it. Our medic did the best he could, kept her alive till we got her here. We also picked up the clone at the same location. She was locked in a closet in the basement."

"So, the clone wasn't working with Cerberus," said Ashley.

James twirled his finger in circles near his temple. "No, she's completely loco, Ash, I don't think she can work with anyone. As crazy as the other clone was, this one's a step beyond. I don't even think she knows who or what she is. She also looks a little different, but…"

James clenched his jaw and tried to collect himself. "Damn, Ash, it was hard as hell hearing that voice, seeing that face again. I have no idea what Cerberus was planning to do with her, and, no me importa. I just want them all dead, for good this time. You feel me?"

"I feel you," said Ashley.

She gave him a faint smile, which he returned. It was good to see him. For a while, they'd been close, comrades, lovers, and what they had was headed in the right direction until the last stages of the war changed everything. After that, he was there for her, but she fucked it up, pushed him away. Ashley wanted to reach out to him, but with his squad around, and Turay, there was no chance. It was probably for the best. Her feelings were complicated enough, and now there was another clone to contend with.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as they stared at each other. Thankfully, a doctor approached, breaking up the awkward stares.

"How's she doing, doc?" asked James.

The doctor shook her head. "I'm sorry, Major Vega, but her chances of survival are slim to none. The system is locked down per Alliance orders right now, so I can't access her living will. If it does come up, and I see a DNR in there, I'll be obliged to take her off life support and call it."

"Fuck," said James. "So there's nothing at all?"

The doctor frowned. "Unless you can arrange for a series of miracles that would give me cause to re-examine my position on the existence of the divine, there's not much more we can do. I've induced a coma and put her in stasis, but she'll die in the next sixty hours. Just to have a chance, she needs a cellular spinal infusion, and the nearest facility with cell replication equipment is at mobile fleet command. It would take a week to transport her there, even without the blockade."

Ashley smiled. "So, you'll give God a chance if I can deliver a miracle, eh doctor? Do I have your word on that?"

The doctor tilted her head and frowned. "This is no joking matter, er…"

"Captain Williams," interjected James.

The doctor's eyes widened. "You're Ashley Williams? Oh, yes, I recognize you now. It is such an honor…"

Ashley held up her hand. "Appreciate it, but let's cut to the chase. I'm invoking my authority as a Council Spectre. This patient is an important lead, and I'll need to question her. For that I need her alive, so I'll have to take her to fleet mobile. How soon can you have her ready for transport?"

The doctor fumbled over her words. "Captain, as I said…"

Ashley cut her off. "My ship is fast, fast enough to get her there in your timeframe if we move now. So how soon, doctor?"

"I can have her secured in a medical pod in transport bay six in twenty minutes," said the doctor. "I'll see to it personally, Ma'am."

"Thank you, doctor," said Ashley.

As the doctor hurried off, Ashley put in a call to the Salamis. "Cortez, have the prisoners arrived yet?"

"Aye, Captain," said Cortez. "You won't believe this, but one of them…"

"I know," interrupted Ashley. "Listen, we have another one to bring up. I need a shuttle and a corpsman at the hospital in ten, bay six."

"Got it, Captain," responded Cortez.

James Vega smiled at her. "It's good to see you back on your game, Ash, Captain."

"Liara whipped me into shape," said Ashley.

"Doc did good, real good," said James.

Ashley saluted. "Major, good luck to you on the rest of your op, clean the bastards out."

James snapped to attention. "Yes, Ma'am! And Ash… about Jack, if you get her through this, I'll owe you one."

"You were close with her?" wondered Ashley.

"Compadres," said James.

Ashley nodded. "She's one of Shepard's, one of ours."

"Yea," said James. "Godspeed, Captain, and careful with that Ramirez pendejo."

By the time James turned and barked an order at his legionaries, Ashley and Turay were already on their way to the hospital's transport bays.

* * *

Ashley was a few meters short of the elevator when Prangley stepped out of it. Earlier, he'd helped Turay take Jack's pod up to med bay. At the time he was relatively calm, but now he was trembling with rage.

He wanted reassurance from Ashley. "Captain, this Cerberus asshole, Ramirez? Tell me you're not going to make any deals with him. Tell me you're going to beat the information out of him, then throw him out the airlock."

"Lieutenant, this is my command. I'll handle him however I damn well please. We're not even certain he's with Cerberus," she said.

"I checked him out," said Prangley. "He's neck deep in Cerberus connections. No way he wasn't with them."

Ashley stared the kid down. "Lieutenant, I said I would handle this. Now, return to your station and your duties. That's an order!"

Prangley saluted vigorously. "Yes, Ma'am!"

There was a touch of insubordination in both his tone of voice and his body language, but Ashley let it go. There was too much on her plate at the moment. She could always hand out an ass-kicking later if he didn't cool off.

She rode the elevator to the crew deck. The Salamis was similar in layout to the original Normandy, with a few additions. Just as the Normandy incorporated both Human and Turian designs, the Salamis boasted small but noticeable Salarian and Asari elements. The most obvious was a small containment area with a quarantine cell that could be vented into space in an emergency, and an interrogation cell that made use of advanced monitoring instruments. There were also other devices of a less savory nature.

As a Council Spectre she didn't have to adhere to Alliance protocol when it came to interrogation. Spectres had the freedom to utilize whatever methods they felt necessary. Ashley wasn't comfortable with that kind of authority, in fact, she made a point of brushing up on Alliance interrogation regs so she could stay within them.

Ashley hadn't just made peace with alien cultures, since the end of the war she'd come close to embracing Shepard's way of thinking. Her personal life had gotten complicated as a result. However, she was still Human, and she intended to act like one. As far as she was concerned, the whole damn galaxy could use a little dose of Human morality, skipping all the ugly bits that Cerberus embraced, of course.

She stopped outside the cells. Chief Kato was standing guard. She acknowledged Ashley's presence with a brief nod. Ashley took a breath. She wasn't ready for the clone, not yet. It would be better to deal with the Cerberus asshole first. He didn't have a chance to get to her, not on that level. The clone was a different story. Ashley could tell that the thing had managed to shake Vega. That face, that voice—she'd need a little time afterwards.

She entered the cell. Ramirez was restrained, sitting in his chair with an imperceptible expression on his face. There was a chair opposite of him, but she chose to stand. She wasn't Shepard. Ashley wasn't the relating type. Dominance was her play.

"Start talking," she said.

Ramirez let a sly smile slip. "What subject would like me to illuminate?"

Ashley came at him straight up. "Are you Cerberus?"

Ramirez laughed. "If I were with Cerberus, you would interacting with an eyeless corpse at the moment."

Ashley shook her head. "Nice try, but I've done some digging. You were a research scientist, neuroscience specifically. Graduated from Kane-Pat with degrees in Molecular Biology and Neuropyschology, you were recruited…"

Ramirez interrupted. "You asked me if I am Cerberus, present tense. I did not say I have never been with Cerberus."

"So you admit it," said Ashley.

"I was formerly with Cerberus, yes," said Ramirez. "As was Miranda Lawson, Jacob Taylor, Commander Shepard, and many others. However, I am no longer associated with Cerberus, in fact, they are my enemies and I have been working against them."

"Well, you're doing a shit job of it," said Ashley. "The way I see it, is that everybody who's come in contact with you, is either missing, dead, or on their way to dead, and that makes me think that you're doing Cerberus's work."

"I agree with the former," said Ramirez. "I have failed to protect my assets, and that is on me, but it is the hazard of my mission, and there was never any intention to allow them to come to harm."

"You sent Jack straight into a trap," said Ashley.

"I did not," said Ramirez. "I gave her a dead end lead and made her promise not to follow it up without assistance. I also attempted to have her detained by law enforcement to keep her from following said lead. The only thing I am guilty of, is underestimating Ms. Nought's resourcefulness, and the lengths that Cerberus was willing to go to find Olivia Free, which is what we should be discussing right now."

"That name keeps coming up. Who the hell is Olivia Free?" said Ashley.

"She is one of Shepard's former lovers," said Ramirez.

"So," said Ashley.

Ramirez smiled. "Indeed, it is a name on a long list."

"Don't be a wiseass," said Ashley.

"It is merely an observation. The Commander suffered from a compulsive sexual disorder," said Ramirez.

"You didn't even know her," said Ashley.

"It was my job," said Ramirez. "When I was with Cerberus my assignment was to learn everything there was to know about Commander Shepard. I dug into her past, recorded her brain patterns, extracted samples of her DNA, and so forth. I know the woman as well as anyone in this galaxy. Because of me…"

"You brought her back," said Ashley.

"I had a hand in it," said Ramirez. "But only indirectly, as my end of the operation proved to be… less successful."

"The clone," said Ashley. "You made Shepard's clone."

"Correct," said Ramirez. "Four of them in fact, all failures, two spectacularly so."

"Yea, I saw," said Ashley.

Ramirez sighed. "The clone you encountered on the Citadel, number three, was actually our biggest success. She was sound, but it is not DNA alone that makes someone, it is their thoughts, their memories, and capturing those is difficult. I would point out, however, that without my work, Miranda Lawson wouldn't have been able to restore key neural pathways that had been damaged."

"So this clone in custody, is this yours as well?" asked Ashley.

"It is the second," said Ramirez.

Ashley frowned. "So if you are no longer with Cerberus, why were they using one of your clones to set Jack up?"

Ramirez shook his head. "I do not believe they used the clone for the sake of Ms. Nought. I believe they were going to use it to identify Olivia Free, and Jack interfered with their plans."

"And what are their plans? Why the hell are they so interested in one of Shepard's old girlfriends?" asked Ashley.

"That, I do not know," said Ramirez. "But it may have something to do with Olivia's nature."

Ashley frowned. "Explain."

"I suspect Olivia Free is two people," said Ramirez.

Ashley sat down. "Huh? You mean she's a clone too?"

"Not exactly," said Ramirez. "It is a genetic alteration. I never found the records, but I believe that she is two people, perhaps even sharing the same consciousness. If you look closely you can see it in her art. She is both voyeur and subject, present always in two parts."

Ashley shook her head. "This just doesn't seem like a Cerberus thing. They're into breeding shock troops, acquiring tech, trying to dominate the galaxy. Where does this fit?"

"That is what I have been trying to determine," said Ramirez.

Ashley threatened the man. "If I interrogate this clone, and find out you've been lying…"

Ramirez nodded. "I am being straight with you, Captain, though I will be intrigued to see what has become of this clone. I urge caution, especially for you, when it comes to the number two."

"Why?" said Ashley.

"The first two clones were created using extensive neurological maps," said Ramirez. "As it turned out, the imprint was too specific to that time frame. Everything that the Commander was experiencing when the images were taken was strong, but past memories were faint. This changed her whole personality, weighting it towards the present experiences and pretty much ignoring the formative childhood experience."

"Not sure I follow," said Ashley.

Ramirez shrugged. "I relied heavily on brain scans taken during a raid on one of our facilities, which occurred shortly before your Feros mission on the original Normandy. Her personality is weighted towards those experiences."

"When she saw the images from the Prothean Beacon and everyone thought she was crazy," said Ashley.

"Yes," said Ramirez. "And when she was infatuated with you."

Ashley sighed. "Great."

"Use it to your advantage," said Ramirez. "She was always a buggy one, but she may respond to you in a different manner than she does most. She is also the youngest of the clones. I know that is relative, but her body was not put through the artificial aging process, nor were her mouth and jaw surgically altered. Also we never got around to duplicating the scars on her body, thus she looks as Shepard would have had she never been a soldier or suffered through Mindoir."

"Is she dangerous?" asked Ashley.

"No," said Ramirez. "I am not sure if it is coincidental, or part of her particular mindset, but this clone is incompetent compared to the real Shepard. Her biotics are weak and her combat skills nearly non-existent. As unstable as she is, were she anything else, she would have been destroyed along with clone number one and number four."

"Shit," said Ashley. "So you made these clones and killed them?"

Ramirez stared at her. "Only the two that were dangerous. The others were put into storage as soon as Project Lazarus panned out. One was stolen. You know the rest of the story."

Ashley frowned. "Where were they being kept?"

"Right here on Benning, of course," said Ramirez. "This was the location of Project Mirror; our clone facility. We used an automated farm as a cover operation, thus we could ship in all the genetic materials without raising any flags."

Ashley shook her head. "You sly Cerberus bastards."

"Do you mind if I smoke?" asked Ramirez as he nudged his chin in the direction of his jacket.

"I wouldn't if I were you," said Ashley.

Ramirez had a puzzled expression. "Eh?"

"I already think you're a Cerberus asshole. If you pull out a cigarette and start puffing away, it'll remind me of the biggest asshole of all, and I might just think 'the hell with it' and ventilate your skull," said Ashley.

Ramirez became extra polite. "Point taken, Captain Williams."

Ashley stood up again. "Don't get comfortable. I'm going to interrogate this clone, and do some digging of my own. I have my resources as well. Then I'll decide if I'm going to shove you out the airlock or hand you over to the Alliance where you'll probably live out your life in a jail cell."

Ashley left the room, closing the door behind her. She used the one way viewer to look in on the clone in the adjoining cell. It was a Shepard clone all right, though Ramirez was correct, this one was younger than the other clone they had encountered. Ashley had never really evaluated the Commander's physical appearance before, to do so would have seemed disrespectful, but the creature in the cell wasn't exempt from such judgements.

When appraised on physical appearance alone, she looked to be about twenty years of age, and her mouth was lovely with well-proportioned lips. Ashley's first impression, had she not known what this woman was, would have led her to guess that this was Commander Shepard's younger, prettier sister. Unfortunately for the clone, Captain Williams knew exactly what it was, and she had every intention to make it uncomfortable. She collected her thoughts, pressed her hand to the security console, and entered the cell.

* * *

It didn't take long for the interrogation to go sideways. For one, this fake Shepard was nothing like the previous clone. There wasn't an ounce of bitterness or rage in her. Instead she was neurotic, frightened, and desperate to talk to someone who wasn't Cerberus. It was also just as Ramirez predicted. She was infatuated with Ashley. The clone's stare was unnerving.

Ashley couldn't take it anymore. "Would you stop looking at me like that?"

The clone apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean. It's just… so nice to see a friendly face."

Ashley tried to put up a wall. "I'm not a friendly face, let's get that straight. You don't know me, you've never met me. You're just some lab experiment walking around with the Commander's DNA."

The clone began to cry. It was difficult to watch. Ashley had never seen Shepard cry. As far as Ashley knew, the Commander was incapable of tears, but this clone was as weepy as a teenage drama queen. The tears flooded out of her eyes, her lips quivered, and she looked like she was going to shake apart. It was pathetic, and worse, effective.

The clone sniffled. "Don't you think I know I'm not her? That woman, that horrible woman reminded me of it every day. She locked me in rooms, and shouted at me, and told me how worthless I was, and sometimes she…"

The clone broke down into a sobbing mess.

Ashley felt like an ass. "What did she do?"

"She made me watch when she tortured people," said the clone. "I know I should have done something, but I was so afraid that she'd do it to me too."

Ashley shook her head. "You really aren't like Shepard at all."

The clone wiped away her tears with her sleeve. "I've been afraid since the day I opened my eyes. I have these memories, but they've always been a whirlwind in my head. I knew, I always knew that I wasn't her. I have her memories but most of them make no sense, they're like nightmares, and they're not even my nightmares. Do you know what it's like to be born with someone else's nightmares?"

Ashley thought about it. This clone had been created with a neural map of Shepard shortly after she'd been tasked with finding Saren. Looking back, it all seemed like a grand adventure, but at the time there was so much fear and doubt hanging over their mission. The Commander projected confidence to the crew, but the effects of the Prothean Beacon were obvious. She was the first one to see the Reapers, what they were capable of, and nobody believed her. It must have been a tremendous burden to bear.

Ashley remembered dealing with that fear herself, of trying to wrap her mind around the existence of these giant machines that were beyond anything she'd ever faced. The mere existence of the Reapers challenged her belief system and damaged her faith. The frustration she felt when the Council turned a blind eye was probably nothing compared to Shepard's. The Commander had an actual mental image of what they were, and what they were going to do to the galaxy. It had to be frustrating. No wonder she'd turned to Cerberus.

And as a result Ashley had rejected her Commander, her friend, as much as called her a traitor on Horizon, refused to visit Shepard when she was in lockdown facing possible execution—facing the prospect of being handed over to the Batarians, the same aliens that had butchered her family and friends and left her forever damaged. Shepard probably needed a friend, and Ashley had been there in the same building and never once tried to speak with her. Why had she done that? In retrospect it was so petty and small.

She'd made excuses, but eventually ran out of them. Once Shepard was gone, it became her chief regret. Shepard was there, right there, and she could have reached out to her and repaired their friendship, or more. Her discovery of Shepard's feelings for her made it that much worse. She couldn't make those same mistakes again.

She softened her tone towards the woman. "I'm sorry."

The clone reached out to her. "Ash…"

Ashley pulled her hand away. "Captain Williams, I am Captain Williams to you, are we clear on that?"

The clone nodded, and then managed a slight smile. "Captain," she repeated. "I knew you'd make it. The Williams curse is lifted."

Ashley did her best to remain cool and collected. "You remember our conversations?"

"Every one of them," she said. "I, um, she… she was so in love with you at the time, she used to hang on your every word. I feel all of that, ever since they first revived me. It's probably why I've been such a failure. I can't shut these emotions off, no matter what Cerberus did to me… I just…"

"But they didn't torture you?" asked Ashley.

The clone shook her head. "But Nicholas made me watch when she tortured other people. She had this device, this… cell, and she would hang them there and blast them with ionized steam. It would…"

The clone broke down weeping again. It was clear that she'd been traumatized. It was also evident that she was no threat to anyone. This wasn't a clone of Shepard. It was only a shard of the Commander, a piece of her reflection taken from a shattered mirror. Ashley was overwhelmed with compassion, and something else she couldn't quite name. She reached out and took the woman's hand. The clone froze, looked up, and stared at Ashley through swollen, wet eyes. Ashley couldn't tell which hand was trembling more, the clone's hand or her own hand.

Ashley lowered her voice. "Did you see Miranda there?"

The clone was puzzled. "Who?"

Ashley tried to describe Miranda Lawson to the clone.

The clone shook her head. "I didn't see her, but there was a woman, someone who had betrayed Cerberus. I heard them talking about her once. They put her in the crate and shipped her off to wherever it is that Nicholas came from."

"Do you have a name?" asked Ashley. "I don't want to call you Shepard."

The clone nodded. "I don't want to be called that either."

"What would you like me to call you?" asked Ashley.

"Emma," said the clone. "It's a little vague, but when she was teenager she wanted to be famous, not as a soldier, but as rock star, or an actress I think."

Ashley was surprised. "Really?"

The clone cracked a smile. "Yes, so she could get any girl she wanted. She wrote a few songs, and she'd always sign them Emma, after her middle name. That's the part of her I connect with the most. My memories of childhood are faint. They feel like someone else's dreams, which is why I never believed I was her, but those memories feel like what I want to be, so I focused on them, and you."

Ashley fidgeted. "Me?"

"You," said the clone. "I learned about Shepard and Dr. T'Soni, so I held on to the feelings I had for you, made them my own. I let them define me so I could carve out my own identity. They helped me to accept that I was not her and never would be. It's the only reason I'm still here, still alive, with at least some of my sanity intact."

"Wow," said Ashley. "That's heavy. No offense, but I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with that."

The woman sitting across from Ashley smiled. "You don't have to do anything. It's not about you. I want to be my own, live my own life. I want to be free, free of Cerberus, free of Shepard. I don't want to die. That's why I played along with Nicholas, to survive."

"Ok, Emma," said Ashley.

Emma blushed.

Ashley shrugged. "I like it. Works better than 'Shepard's Clone', or hey you!"

"It sounds nice, thank you," said Emma.

Ashley tried to put some steel back in her words. "Don't thank me yet. I have to determine how much you did to stay alive, how much you helped Cerberus. You may end up in an alliance prison cell, so you need to cooperate with me."

"Of course, I'll cooperate," said Emma. "Anything I can do to help you get her back, I will. She'll always be a part of me."

Ashley cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't know Miranda?"

Emma appeared to be confused. "Miranda? Oh, you mean the other woman. I thought this was all about Shepard."

For a brief moment, Ashley felt as if Cortez had turned off the ship's Mass Effect fields and initiated a series of barrel rolls. Vertigo set in, followed by utter confusion, which bled back into disorientation.

Ashley spat out her next words as if they were fingers grasping for a deck rail. "What the hell are you talking about, Emma. Shepard is dead. Is there another clone?"

Emma's eyes widened. "Not a clone. They have her, at least her body. I heard them through the door one night. There is a man at a base. He has a Russian name, and… the Reapers did something to Shepard, changed her in some way and Cerberus wants whatever it is she has, but they can't communicate with her."

"Oh, God," said Ashley.

Her thoughts drifted back to her meeting with the Rachni Queen days before, the words that didn't make sense.

' _Metal notes, machine notes, humming in her head, and sour notes all around. She can only sing in her dreams. Across the void, she touched our song, showed us her color. She wants to be found, to be set free, safely away from those who would twist her song._ '

Ashley stood up.

"Are you ok?" asked Emma.

"You stay here, don't move," said Ashley. "Try to think about everything you heard from Cerberus, focus on it, on what you learned from Nicholas. Please, Emma, if you can do this…"

Emma nodded. "Yes, yes, I will. I told you, anything to help."

Ashley exited the cell, then locked it behind her. She stumbled over nothing, then leaned against the wall to steady herself. Thoughts raced through her head; a jumble of half-baked plans, notions, and foggy ideas. She had to speak to Admiral Hackett, the Council, and anyone else that would listen. They'd think she was crazy, as crazy as they thought Shepard was when the word 'Reapers' first came out of her mouth.

This was going to sound even crazier, but it was just as true. Ashley felt it, knew it. There were so many things to do. She had to make plans in case they didn't believe her.

She turned to Chief Kato. "Don't let anyone in that cell but me. Do you understand?"

The chief saluted. Ashley sprinted for the tactical room where the QEC was located. Before she made her next move she had to speak with Liara.

* * *

 **Up Next: Treachery aboard the Salamis**


	28. Double Time

_The Alliance is desperate, Cerberus is desperate, everything is mess, and they're fighting over the scraps._

* * *

 _Sometimes, the only soul that can mend a broken heart is the one that broke it. For they are the ones holding all the pieces."_

Patti Roberts

March 12th, 2188

 **Captain Ashley Williams**

* * *

"I didn't expect this from you, of all people," said Ashley.

Liara sighed. "Ash, you are thinking with your heart instead of your head. Cerberus is playing a game. The clone is probably working for them, trying to distract us from the real danger."

Ashley shook her head. "You're wrong, I feel it. The Rachni Queen sensed that Shepard is still alive."

"Which makes me extra suspicious of the clone," said Liara. "Remember, Cerberus experimented on the Rachni. They were responsible for bringing them back. Given all that they know, it would be easy for them to give the Rachni false signals to ensure we take the bait," said Liara.

"You're telling me to trust Ramirez, who's admitted to being Cerberus, and not the clone who is nothing more than a victim," said Ashley.

"Ramirez is my agent, my responsibility," said Liara.

"Which you should have told me from the beginning," said Ashley. "I didn't know you were still playing Shadow Broker on the side. I thought you were working with Tali to restore communications and to help the Quarians get home."

"That was one of the things we were doing," said Liara. "The rest, well, I'll explain all that the next time you come home."

"Home…" said Ashley. "I'm not sure where home is."

Liara's holographic image flickered. "Ash, I have to go, there's a problem here I need to address. I'll get in touch with the Alliance medical team and inform them that you're bringing in Jack. I'll make sure they are provided with extra incentive to save her."

Ashley nodded. "Thank you."

Liara's image vanished, leaving Ashley alone in front of the QEC com. She felt abandoned. If Liara didn't believe her, then what chance did she have with the Council and the Alliance? If only Joker were here, or Garrus and Tali, even Wrex. The Krogan would think it was crazy, but he'd still try. It was Shepard, after all, which made Liara's skepticism that much harder to take. On some level she felt a sense of betrayal. It hurt.

Her thoughts drifted back to Horizon, what she said to Shepard. She'd failed her Commander, and months later on the Citadel she nearly compounded that mistake a hundredfold. She went back to that moment—the confusion, Udina in her ear, her finger on the trigger, Shepard across from her, and then… she felt it. She let go, went with her gut, and trusted in the woman she could always trust.

The clone in the cell below was not that woman, but a part of Shepard was in there. Was it enough? Ashley sensed that her decisions now were as critical to the galaxy as her choice that day on the Citadel. She could feel it reverberating through the Salamis, her ship, her crew. Everything was at stake. The events of that day rocketed through her brain. Udina, the coup attempt, Kai Leng, and how it all came together. Ashley remembered a crucial detail.

She stepped away from the com and located the VI bypass input. Using her Captain's access key, she initiated a series of CEOA's, all written and encrypted by a Spectre named Jondum Bau. Since the Salamis had incorporated several Salarian security protocols into its design, Ashley had taken just such a precaution. She was confident that no one on board her ship, be it Cerberus, alien, VI, AI, or otherwise, could override what she had just done.

She waited one minute after introducing the encrypted data into the ship's VI, and then opened a ship wide com channel.

" _This is Captain Williams, I am initiating security protocol SSV4, COI, 1.1A. This is a total lockdown command. Everyone report to their designated duty or off-duty post. Security officers are advised to shoot anyone out of compliance._ "

Closing the com, she smiled to herself before marking the time, 21:37:13.

* * *

Ashley checked the time. 21:54:36. Glancing at her security team, she indicated the cell door. Iverson opened it.

"What about the other one?" he asked.

"She stays in the cell," said Ashley. "You and Gurley will guard that door with your lives. No one gets in or out of it except me, no one, is that clear?"

"Understood, Ma'am," said Iverson.

Ashley looked in on Ramirez. He was sitting in the chair, wearing restraints and a pained expression on his face. He tilted his head towards the evacuation port at the edge of the cell, then spoke through gritted teeth.

"Captain, if you do not mind?" he said.

Ashley smirked. "Don't worry, I'm taking you for a walk. You can use the main head."

Producing a key, she released his restraints, pulled him out of the cell, and guided him down the hall.

"I hear you're Liara's man," she said.

"Ah, so you have been in contact with Dr. T'Soni," he replied.

Ashley was abrupt. "Yea."

"But you still do not trust me," said Ramirez.

"That too," said Ashley.

She let him use the head, didn't even follow him in. She figured if he was a Cerberus agent, this would be the time he'd make his move. He disappointed her by coming out again; he was well mannered enough to clean his hands. She motioned to the break table, and he took a seat.

"Want some coffee?" she asked.

"I prefer tea, no additives," said Ramirez.

"Yea, you would," said Ashley.

She poured him some tea out of the hot dispenser. Setting the cup down on the table, she sat opposite him and said nothing while he sipped it. She checked the time. 22:02:05.

"What is your game, Captain?" inquired Ramirez.

"No game," said Ashley. "Liara asked me to release you, said you were working as a stand in Shadow Broker, so I complied. I still don't trust you, but I'm not going to go against her on this."

Ramirez turned the corners of his mouth up almost imperceptibly. "You are fond of the Asari."

"Yea," said Ashely. "She's a comrade, a good friend."

"Is that all?" wondered Ramirez.

"Drink your tea and shut up," said Ashley.

Ramirez took another sip. "Have you talked to the clone yet?"

"Yes," said Ashley.

Ramirez seemed curious. "What did she have to say?"

"Tried to sell me a ghost story," said Ashley. "Claims that the Commander is still alive, that Cerberus is holding her to get Reaper tech from her head, but they are having a hard time communicating with her."

Ramirez froze. He said nothing while Ashley watched him grapple with the information. If it was an act, it was an exceptional one. He seemed genuinely astounded. His hands trembled as he held the cup of hot tea, sloshing some of it onto the table.

"My God," said Ramirez. "That is why they want Olivia."

Ashley shook her head. "What the hell are you going on about now?"

"Olivia Free," said Ramirez. "I told you, she's unique. She's two people, but one person. I'll abbreviate the story. You've heard of Tristan Gold, correct?"

Ashley nodded. "Yea, spaceship pioneer, first man to make it to Neptune, and later, a reclusive, old rich guy who died a few years ago."

"Yes, he was this century's Howard Hughes," said Ramirez.

"Who's that?" asked Ashley.

"Not important," said Ramirez. "Tristan Gold had three daughters."

"None of them named Olivia," said Ashley.

Ramirez shook his head. "No, but he had four grandsons and six granddaughters, one of them named Melody."

Ashley sighed. "Where is this going?"

"Melody had a rare brain disease, incurable," said Ramirez. "I believe it was a type of BSE, not the mad cow disease, but biotic spongiform encephalopathy. It is fatal within a year. Asari have a similar illness, though it manifests differently, quite differently."

"I don't care, just cut to the chase," said Ashley.

"Gold moved mountains of money to develop a cure for his granddaughter," said Ramirez. "He reached out to the Asari government, but they stonewalled him. They are secretive about their brain disorders, and you can well understand why. Eventually he turned to illegal research to find a cure."

"And Cerberus," said Ashley.

"Actually, no," said Gold. "He found a Salarian researcher who specialized in brain disorders, or so he thought."

Ashley frowned. "But he was wrong?"

"Very wrong," said Ramirez. "The Salarian, a Dr. Moon, obviously an alias, was involved with illegal research. He promised to cure Melody on one condition."

Ashley was listening now. "Which was?"

"He needed a healthy human subject, same gender, same blood type, though not necessarily a relative. She just had to be the right donor match and also biotic," said Ramirez. "About that time, a lovely teen girl by the name of Olivia Maslany went missing. She was presumed to be abducted and killed, just another biotic hate crime victim. However, she was the same age as Melody, and a search through her medical files would indicate a perfect donor match."

Ashley was disgusted. "Holy shit, he kidnapped some poor girl to use as living donor for his granddaughter?"

Ramirez nodded. "Here is where the details get murky. Melody Gold-Young succumbed to her illness, March 4th, 2168. She was sixteen years old. She was reportedly cremated. Her family denied all researchers access to the body. Nobody ever found Olivia Maslany, also aged sixteen. Then, just a few years later we have the earliest works of Olivia Free showing up on the scene."

"Aside from the name, Olivia, I see no connection at all," said Ashley.

Ramirez smiled. "Olivia Free enrolled in St. John's College, in Annapolis, the same college that Melody's mother attended. Financial records indicate that her tuition fees were waived by the school. Later that year, St. John's received a sizable donation from the Gold family."

"Circumstantial at best," said Ashley.

"There is no student photo identification on file for Olivia Free, and most of her records are sealed," said Ramirez.

"Holy shit!" said Ashley.

Ramirez smiled. "So you see?"

Ashley shook her head. "No, what I mean, is holy shit—I'm really bored with this pointless story that has nothing to do with the possibility of Shepard being alive."

Ramirez sighed. "Dr. T'Soni has Shepard's personal belongings, does she not?"

"Yea, I think so," said Ashley.

"Ask her to send you the photos," said Ramirez. "You are looking for a photo dated 2171, a picture of Josslyn Shepard, Kaidan Alenko, and Olivia Free. They are sitting on The Great Lawn."

Ashley laughed. "The Great Lawn, really? I…"

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" shouted a voice.

Lt. Jason Prangley, who had just rounded the corner, spotted Ramirez. The young officer blamed Ramirez for Jack's condition. He was apparently angered by the sight of the Cerberus miscreant out of his cell, sipping tea, and happily chatting with Captain Williams, or perhaps angered was too light of a term. If Ashley could put a finger on it, she might press furious instead. Prangley could barely restrain himself.

"What is he doing out of his cell? Captain," asked Prangley.

"He's free," said Ashley. "My orders, cleared of all charges. You have a problem with that, Lieutenant?"

"Hell, yes, I do," said Prangley. "You should have shoved him out of the airlock, or shot him. The man is a Cerberus dog!"

Ramirez sighed. "A redundant descriptor. Personally, I would go with Cerberus pig, or maybe Cerberus bastard, or, rather, stick with the first one—son of a bitch, which is, in fact, quite accurate. My mother was a severe person. I never much cared for her."

Prangley was red-faced. "You're a real wise ass, aren't you? You won't be laughing when I crack open your skull with a shockw…"

Ashley interrupted. "Prangley, cool your ions. Consider yourself reprimanded, weapon locker duty. By the time I look up, your feet will be moving to that location or else you'll be carried to the brig, understood?"

Prangley snapped to attention, saluted, and took his leave.

"A bit of a hothead," said Ramirez.

"Jack meant a lot to those kids," said Ashley. "If Liara hadn't vouched for you, I'd have obliged his request, and, as God is my witness, if I find out you're playing me, I'll beat you until you resemble something a Thresher Maw puked up."

Ramirez said nothing. Ashely checked the time, 22:19:40. She stood up.

"Finish your tea, and try not to piss off the crew. I'll be up in the CIC for about thirty," she said.

* * *

Ashley checked the time 22:37:18.

Cortez looked up at her from the pilot's seat. "What's up with that?"

Ashley feigned indifference. "With what?"

"You keep checking the time," said Cortez. "We're still 39 hours out, Captain. You know the old saying, a watched pot…"

"That's not what I'm watching, Steve," said Ashley. "I've got a hunch."

"I don't like the sound of that," said Cortez.

"Just keep your eye on the flight instruments," said Ashley. "If you spot a gravimetric spike in the corridor, drop us out of FTL and engaged stealth immediately."

"Field mines?" Cortez asked in alarm.

"Mines, a funnel net, or anything else that might knock us out of FTL and make us vulnerable," said Ashley.

Cortez shook his head. "You think Cerberus is that serious about killing Jack?"

"This isn't about Jack," said Ashley. "I'll fill you in on the details a little later. By the way, I can't help but notice that you've been pretty chatty with the new com specialist."

Cortez smiled. "Yea, Erik, he's great. I think…well, nothing serious yet on my part, but he's persuasive, and hot as hell."

Ashley laughed. "Nice to see you back in the game, Steve."

Cortez cleared his throat. "Since we're being so open, is it my imagination, or are you and Liara?"

"It's nothing, really," said Ashley. "Ok, well, it was something one night, really something, but it's not, God, Steve, Asari are complicated, mentally, emotionally, and I'm pretty simple. Also, I'm not, well, I always thought of myself as straight."

Cortez laughed. "Asari are sexless, Ashley. I don't think it counts."

"Oh, it counts," said Ashley. "They aren't sexless. They say that, and I think they even believe that, but trust me, by Human standards they are all female with all the right parts. I found that out first hand."

"Have you been with a human woman before?" asked Cortez.

"Of course not," said Ashley.

Cortez laughed. "Then how can you compare?"

Before Ashley could answer, a general alarm sounded.

Cortez checked his readings. "What the hell, I see no… wait, that's an internal alarm. There's small weapons fire near med bay."

"Shit," said Ashley. She checked the time before sprinting to the deck access hatch. 22:43:01.

* * *

"What the hell do you mean, there's nothing on surveillance," shouted Sergeant Turay.

Chief Kato was nonplussed. "The feeds are clear. Whoever did this had access to our security overrides."

Ashley stared down at Ramirez's corpse. She felt a pang of guilt. She knew this was a possibility, but put him at risk anyway. Liara was going to be furious with her, but she had to make a call, and this was the right call, even Ramirez would have agreed with her. He seemed to have a sense of what was at stake. Her only regret was that she never let him finish the rest of his story about Olivia Free.

She checked the time as Dr. Amir finished his examination. 22:51:12.

"One shot to the back of the head," said the Dr. "The origin is ten meters away."

He checked the readout on his Omni-tool. "The round was fired from a Paladin pistol, serial number ASA665P3A10147714. That weapon is registered to Ensign Wendy Ueda."

Ashley stared across the deck. "The shooter was in a blind spot, that's why the security feed missed it."

Turay shook his head. "But the goddamn VI should have a heat sig on record."

"Not here," said Ashley. "See where we are, that conduit? That's the feed for the port LADAR array, right below that…"

"Fuck, I see it," said Turay. "That's the main coil for the Thanix cannon. You could set off a grenade right there and not get a reading. This bastard knew what he was doing."

"Or she," said Ashley.

Chief Kata looked hurt. "I know I was supposed to keep an eye on him, but I got a call…"

"Prangley?" asked Ashley.

"How did you know?" wondered Kato.

"Just a hunch," said Ashley.

Hold the new lockdown until we find the shooter. The only people I want moving on this ship right now, are you, me, and Turay. Are Iverson and Gurley still at their posts?

"Yes, Ma'am," said Kato. "The other prisoner is secure. No signs of trouble down there."

Ok, I'm going to the weapons lockers. Turay, you're with the Chief. Keep a gun on all the access points, and don't take your eyes off med bay. I don't want this Cerberus shit to take a side angle on Jack.

She hurried below decks.

* * *

Ashley finished disassembling all three weapons on the bench. She checked the time. 23:09:44. Ueda, Prangley, and Sokolov stood on looking confused, and perhaps a little concerned.

Ueda was especially worried. "You're saying my weapon was discharged? I promise you, Ma'am…"

"Quiet, Wendy," said Ashley. "I'm not finished."

She checked the MEF-LOC Pin on the weapon, shook her head and clicked her tongue.

"Sloppy as hell," she said.

"What are you saying?" asked Prangley.

"Someone modified her weapon to make it appear that it had been recently fired, but the pin is clear, which means it hasn't induced a field in over a month, not since the last time she used it for practice. If our culprit was a professional assassin, they would have known this, and would have done a better job of setting you up, so I'm thinking it's a tech, someone who could hack the weapon's LVIOS with an Omni-tool."

Prangley was confused. "Setting me up?"

"Yes," said Ashley. "You were here on weapons locker duty. Your accessed Ueda's locker at 22:35, shortly after the security feeds for this area were cut. There's no visual of you opening the locker, but the biometric sensors on the lockers will have a record of you opening it, because they weren't erased."

Prangley frowned. "What?"

"Whoever killed Ramirez wanted to pin it on you, and I made that easy for them," said Ashley.

Prangley rubbed his temple. "Is that why Ramirez was in my usual spot drinking tea, during my break time?"

"Yea," said Ashley. "It also means I can trust you, but Wendy, not so much."

Ensign Ueda took a step back. "Captain?"

Ashley pulled out her pistol, aiming it directly at the Ensign. Prangley was shocked, but Sokolov turned on her.

"You asked me to cover, then you ran off, and came back later looking upset," he said. "What were you doing, ha?"

Ashley wondered the same. "Sokolov brings up a good point, Ensign, where were you running off to in such a hurry, care to explain?"

Ueda was near to tears. "Captain, I'm sorry, I…"

Ashley slowed her cadence, lingering on each word. "Spit… it… out… now…"

Ueda began whimpering. "I've been seeing someone for the past week, I... we've been meeting in the aft starboard storage compartment."

Ashley scowled. "So you were what, getting it on in there while someone was not using your gun to kill Ramirez to make Prangley look guilty?"

Ueda shook her head. "No, no, he wasn't there. He said Engineer Sherman came up with a task at the last minute."

"Who?" asked Ashley, "who was it you've been seeing?"

"Chief Prieto," she said.

"Shit," said Ashley. "He has high level access to most of our critical systems."

She jumped on the com. "Sherman, listen up, is Prieto down there? I need to ask him some questions."

Sherman's voice came across the com. "Yes, Ma'am, he's right here, he…"

Engineer Sherman was cut off when the unmistakable report of a mass effect round echoed over the com line.

"Holy shit!" yelled Prangley.

Ashley called up to CIC, but the com went offline. She laughed. "Cerberus assholes, I knew it."

She checked the time. 23:15:06, there was still a large enough window to save her ship.

She hit the initiate sequence on her Omni-tool, then signaled Cortez. The pilot dropped the Salamis out of FTL seconds later. Her Omni-tool blinked, indicating that the coms were back online and under her control.

She was on the com immediately. "This is Captain Williams to all Salamis personnel, this is a delta one alert, security breech protocol. We have a Cerberus agent on board, Chief Nestor Prieto. He's armed and dangerous. He may try to sabotage the ship. Shoot to kill, I repeat, shoot to kill."

Ashley tossed her pistol to Prangley and searched the weapon rack with her eyes. She was hoping for a Valkyrie, something that would work in tight spaces and give her short burst accuracy, unfortunately the only Valkyrie in sight was on the bench, and she had no way of knowing its firing condition. She chose an old standby off the rack, an M15 Vindicator.

After a quick ammo check, she turned to the Lieutenant. "Prangley, you're with me. I'll need some biotic backup. Sokolov, keep an eye on Ueda. I still don't know if she's a part of this, or just stupid, but if she makes one false move, shoot her."

Sokolov trained his sidearm on Ueda and glared. "Aye, aye, Captain."

Ashley sprinted for the aft port auxiliary access hatch. Prangley tried to keep up. Using her Omni-tool, she released the locking mechanism on the hatch and opened it. Heat vented out of the crawlway. Her indicator read 53.9 C, hot. She didn't have her armor on and there was no time to grab a pair of gloves. The metal rungs were going to be a bitch.

"Why not take the elevator?" asked Prangley.

Before Ashley could form the next word, the lights went out. The main reactor was offline. They had to move fast.

"Oh, yea, I see now…" said Prangley. "You've been one step ahead of these Cerberus shits all along, haven't you?"

"Let's hope it stays that way," said Ashley.

They entered the hatch and began climbing. She checked the time. 23:17:40.

* * *

Ashley and Prangley crept through the crawlspace as quietly as they could. She had a good idea where Prieto was going. The thought had occurred to her almost immediately as she began formulating her plan. Still, he'd caught her completely off guard with his boldness. She expected him to sneak in here real quiet and do the job after eliminating Ramirez. He must have gotten hung up somewhere, but doing what?

Her com blinked. She ignored it. They were moving along the outside of the main oxygen mix tank. Ashley couldn't risk Prieto hearing and figuring out where they were. The last thing she needed was hot metal flying in her direction in this spot. She alerted Prangley to the same with a simple nod at the tank. He got it immediately, and crept along behind her, quite as a mouse.

They cut across the thruster relays and noticed one of the control boxes was blown out. The damage was minor, but the location was unfortunate. She recognized that Prieto had fused the flow impellor circuits. This did nothing to harm the main engines, but made it impossible for the ship's VI to get a reading on the amount of hydrogen flowing into the reaction chamber. Without an accurate reading, there was no way to mix in the right amount of anti-protons, and the ship's VI would refuse to fire the engines. It was an ingenious bit of sabotage—maximizing repair time while minimizing the total damage to the engines. It signaled to Ashley that Cerberus had every intention of capturing the Salamis.

" _Shit,_ " she hissed under her breath.

She released the safety on her rifle as she approached the aft port ballast bulkhead. Using her Omni-tool to initiate a hard open, she signaled Prangley. He encased Ashley in a biotic barrier. As soon as the pressurized door blew, she rolled into the room. Prieto was exactly where she expected him to be—the auxiliary exterior hatch solenoid valves for the ship's forward belly. They were old fashioned and separate from the VI control pathways, as were other critical functions on the Salamis. It was a precaution in case the ship was ever hacked by an enemy VI or AI.

He leered at her. "Too late, I already ejected the cells. About now, your little Shepard clone is sucking vacuum, suffocating while her lungs turn inside out. Ironic that she'll die just like her pred…"

Ashley fired three rounds into his groin. He dropped to his knees and let out a horrible scream of agony. A second later, his left eye ejected, showering blood and brain matter all over his shirt. He crumpled to the deck, lifeless.

"Son of a bitch," said Prangley. "Just like you said, ocular flashbang, but what the hell? You actually shot his balls off! I've never seen that before."

"He pissed me off," said Ashley.

"Yea," said Prangley. "Remind me never to go down that road, Captain."

"I doubt you will," said Ashley.

She got on the com. "I need a tech team in the forward port engine compartment, ASAP."

"I'm sorry we didn't make it in time to save the clone," said Prangley.

"So am I," said Ashley.

He sighed. "The engines are going to take a while to fix, right?"

Ashley nodded. "But we stopped him before he could do worse. He never got a chance to disrupt the drive core, which would have left us FUBAR."

Prangley was glum. "But Jack is going to run out of time."

Ashley checked the time, 23:36:15. There was still a chance, provided they could maintain stealth until the jump to FTL.

"We aren't done yet," she said. "But our little hatch crawl was a preview of what's to come. It's going to be tight, and it's going to get hot."

Prangley nodded. He understood.

* * *

The Captain's Quarters on the Salamis was fairly tight, too small for a separate bathroom, but the Alliance managed to squeeze in a small hand-shower, sink, and toilet into the corner, and for that alone, Ashley was grateful. There was no privacy curtain for the shower, just a drain, and a micro field that kept the water from spraying out of the tight shower boundary.

After she entered the room, she was careful to seal the door behind her. She'd seen to it that the ship's AI was excluding a key occupant from the onboard bio-scans, yet she was still nervous when she opened her locker. The first thing she noticed was the stench of urine, which made her feel a little guilty. The feeling was replaced with relief as soon as she spotted the Emma's swollen eyes and tear stained cheeks.

Ashley removed the woman's gag while holding a finger to her lips in warning. Emma took in a gasp of air, then proceeded to sob. It took her a few minutes to collect herself.

"I can't believe you did that to me," she whined. "You left me in there so long, I couldn't hold it… I… I'm so humiliated."

"Lower your voice," said Ashley, half laughing to herself. "Damn, you're really not like Shepard at all. So what, you pissed your pants, compared to what could have happened to you, I'd call that a win. Aren't there any of Shepard's military memories stuffed into your head, no matter how faint? Does deep space sniper training ring a bell?"

Emma blinked, then wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Oh, yes, something about… diaper rash, what the hell?"

Ashley laughed. "Aha, it's in there after all."

Emma went back to being angry. "That's not an explanation for why you tranquilized me, and stuffed me in a closet, bound and gagged. I was terrified when I woke up, and I almost suffocated when my nose got snotty from crying."

Ashley sighed and thought to herself, ' _Beautiful girl, big baby, though._ '

"I had to know," said Ashley.

"Know what?" asked Emma.

"That you weren't on board with Cerberus," replied Ashley.

"You could have just left me in the cell and asked more questions," complained Emma.

"The cell got flushed by a sleeper agent," said Ashley. "So instead of sitting here, smelling like piss, warm and breathing, you'd be a decompressed meat popsicle floating in space, or you could be with Ramirez, laying on the floor with your skull blasted open and your brains leaking all over the deck."

Emma got quiet.

Ashley smirked. "The proper response to what I just said, Emma, is, thank you, Captain Williams, for saving my life."

"Thank you, Ash," said Emma.

Ashley shook her head. "Captain Williams, you haven't earned the right to call me Ash."

Emma nodded. "I understand."

Ashley knelt down beside her bed and opened a metal drawer. She grabbed some warm-ups, a pullover hoodie and a pair of leggings. She handed them to Emma.

"These should fit you. Grab yourself a shower," she said.

Emma nodded and walked towards the bathroom. Just before she entered, she turned back around.

"So, this Ramirez, he wasn't Cerberus either?" she asked.

"Apparently not," said Ashley.

"But you didn't protect him well enough," said Emma.

Ashley shook her head. "Nope."

"You used him," said Emma.

Ashley nodded. "I suspected I had a sleeper agent on my ship."

"So you used Ramirez like a dog," said Emma.

Ashley stared at Emma. "Excuse me?"

"The sleeper agent was the bear, and Ramirez was the dog," said Emma. "I remember every conversation we had around that time. My most vivid memory is standing next to you and Tali in a base on Nepheron, trying to stop a computer from being flashed. I think that's where I was born, so to speak."

"I remember that," said Ashley. "There were medical scanners all around us, and some of them were running. Yea, I… but, wait a second. Shepard was a real bitch to me that day. I saved her life. She took a shitload of enemy fire from a fire squad of Cerberus Commandos, and it overwhelmed her barrier. I was in heavy armor, and had full kinetics up, so I jumped on her and shielded her while Tali overloaded their weapons, and for that she got angry with me. She pushed me off of her like I was nothing. Mumbled thanks, and turned her back on me."

Emma smiled. "That's not the memory I have. I remember you laying on top of me, how good that felt, and trying to resist the urge to kiss you for saving my life. Then I… I mean, she, got embarrassed and had to turn away from you to collect herself."

Ashley scratched her head. "Oh, I totally read that wrong."

Emma smirked, then pulled her clothes off and stepped into the shower. Ashley forgot her manners and found herself staring at the woman while she showered. Again, she was different than what Ashley expected. Emma was more deliberate, graceful, and feminine in the way she went about things—completely unlike Shepard, who would have lumbered into the shower like a drunken bull, lathered on the soap haphazardly, and been out again before the suds even had a chance to make it down the drain. Emma was poetry in comparison. She noticed Ashley's stare, and grinned as she pulled wet strands of hair away from her face.

"I'd try to seduce you, Captain Williams, but I worry that will make you think I still have something to do with Cerberus, so…"

Ashley stood up. "Shit!"

It was obvious as hell, once she thought about it. She grabbed her pistol and headed for the door.

"What's wrong?" asked Emma.

"I just realized something important. I'm locking you in. Don't open this door for anyone but me," she told Emma.

She checked the time. 00:07:05.

After she shut the door, Ashley contacted the ship's VI via her Omni-tool.

"Computer, I need the location of Specialist Erik Ohlund," she asked.

Moments later, she was sprinting to the forward sensor bay, praying she wasn't too late.

* * *

Ashley stood outside the cell. She checked the time. 00:54:17.

Chief Kato was curious. "You've been staring at the time monitor on your Omni-tool ever since we left Benning."

"No com buoys anymore," said Ashley. "Thus, no tactical station. No tactical station, no real time info on possible enemy movements. Alliance Command has their recommendations, but I don't think they're sufficient. I'm more of an old school type of girl. I looked at all the star charts in the area after Cortez plotted our course back to the fleet. There are over a dozen possible locations along the way to hide a squadron, with four possible locations for fueling and re-supplying a task force or a small feet. My Omni-tool is giving me updated intercept times all along our route."

"Do you really think that Cerberus has any ships left?" asked Kato.

"Yea, I do," said Ashley. "They've got to be hiding out here somewhere. They've been moving to many resources around not to have a staging area somewhere, and Benning is a focus point for them, so it wouldn't surprise me if it's between here and the Arcturus Relay. There's a rogue asteroid, almost big enough to be a moon not too far from here. That's the one that worries me the most, because this is where our sleeper agent chose to knock us out of FTL."

Kato looked alarmed. "Ah, shit!"

"Yea," said Ashley. "If they picked us up, or one of our Cerberus spies got a signal off to them, they'll be here in about thirty minutes. Our crew won't have the thrusters back online for at least another fifty minutes, so if you are the praying type, I'd get on that."

Kato laughed. "Sorry, Captain, I'm not really much on old superstitions."

"Faith isn't superstition," said Ashley. "It's a belief that all of this shit we've gone through is worth something, all of this suffering, and struggle, and striving to do the right thing, that isn't just a complete waste of our time and lives. Otherwise, the Reapers were right, and there was no point in fighting them."

Kato frowned. "I didn't mean to offend, Captain."

"Don't worry about it, Chief. I'm just thinking out loud," said Ashley.

She opened the door to the cell, stepped in, and closed it behind her. Specialist Ohlund was in restraints. He looked nervous as hell. He was still alive, which meant he didn't have a flashbang, which also meant he was more of an asset than a true operative. Under normal circumstances, she would have practiced restraint, even under Alliance regs. Unfortunately for Specialist Ohlund, and for Cortez, Ashley wasn't in a position to exercise restraint.

She stood over him. "I don't have a lot of time, so I'm going to ask you nicely, just once. What were you doing in the avionics bay, near the sensor override?"

Ohlund shrugged. "I was getting a weird echo on the coms, and I wanted to check it out."

Ashley sighed. "What I think, is that you realized I had locked down all the transmitters, the QEC, and the distress coms, and you couldn't signal your Cerberus buddies, so you went to the one place on the ship where you might be able to get around the VI, and set off the ELB."

Erik shook his head. "No, Ma'am, I wouldn't do that."

"I looked at your record, Specialist. It's impressive, except for one red flag," said Ashley.

Ohlund started at her with a blank expression.

Ashley looked at her Omni-tool info. "You have an associate, a Dr. Jiro Toshiwa?"

Ohlund shrugged. "The name is vaguely familiar. I've known a lot of people."

Ashley cuffed him on the ear, just hard enough to get his attention.

"Hey!" he protested. "Captain, you have to believe me."

Ashley gritted her teeth. "You know what, Specialist? Earlier today I made a promise to myself that I was going to stick to Alliance interrogation regs, and not abuse my authority as a Spectre. You see, I don't want to go down that road, but now I have a dead man outside my med bay, a man I put directly in the crosshairs so I could smoke out any Cerberus bastards on my ship. I feel like shit about it, and it's going to get me into trouble with a good friend of mine, and with Alliance Command, and that just pisses me off."

Ohlund looked nervous.

"Now, both your eyeballs are still intact, which means you aren't an operative, you're a wildcard, an Alliance plant, an asset, hell, maybe you're just a trained Cerberus monkey, I don't care. What I do care about, is…" Ashley leaned down so she could scream the next words in his face, "that you've been messing around with a good man, and sticking your fingers where they don't belong in MY FUCKING SHIP!"

Specialist Ohlund began to sweat. He looked nervous, and guilty as hell.

She pressed him. "I better like the next words that come out of your mouth, Ohlund, so make them good."

All she got was a stammering excuse. "Honestly, I just saw that something was wrong with the coms, and…"

Ashley unfastened his restraints, grabbed one of his hands, and pressed it onto the table. He tried to resist, but to no avail.

"Not a chance," said Ashley. "You're just a tech. I'm a combat marine, with augmentation, which means I'm about five times stronger than you."

She pulled out her pistol, aimed the handle at his hand, and brought it crashing down on this thumb with enough force to shatter the bone and break open the skin. Blood squirted all over the room. A scream of agony burst out of Ohlund's throat and reverberated off the walls. Ashley's stomach churned, but she steeled herself. She had to be hard, otherwise it might drag on too long, and she didn't know if she had the nerve to go all the way with it.

She grabbed Ohlund by the hair, and snarled into his ear. "Start talking, Erik, or I will smash every fucking one of your digits, and then I'll put your balls on that table and do the same, do you understand?"

Ohlund broke. He started spilling information in between bouts of vomiting. By the time she left the cell, Ashley was confident she had everything she needed. It was as she suspected, he was mainly an asset, just a disgruntled man that Cerberus had been developing. Chief Kato was still outside the door. Her face whitened when she saw the blood all over her Captain's uniform, and heard the man in the cell weeping inconsolably.

"Ma'am?" said Kato.

Ashley looked at the time. 01:16:54.

She gritted her teeth and spoke evenly. "The nearest Cerberus base is further away than I thought, and it's likely they never got a signal. We're good to go, Chief. Next thing to pray for, is that we can get there in time. I don't want to lose Jack."

Chief Kato saluted. "We'll get her there, Captain, have faith."

Ashley tried, but couldn't manage a proper smile. "Get the prisoner some medical attention, Chief."

Ashley left the holding area and went straight back to her quarters. She wiped sweat off her brow. The Salamis was heating up. It was a good thing they were going to be able to drop out of stealth and engage the cooling system. Releasing the lockout on the VI, she called up to her XO.

"Samuels, you have the conn," she said. "Take us to the fleet, and watch our heat loads. I need to grab a few winks."

It was true. She hadn't slept in nearly thirty hours, but it was more than sleep that she needed. Just outside her quarters, she checked the time once more, but it didn't register. It was no longer important.

As the door slid open, she pulled off her uniform jacket and threw it into the corner. She spotted Emma, sitting on a chair near the bed. She was looking at the personal pad Ashley had left for her. A quick glance around the room showed that Emma had done a little bit of tidying. The locker was clean and dry.

Ashley caught her eyes. They held each other's stare for several heartbeats. Emma's eyes became the Commander's eyes, full of concern, kindness, and compassion. Ashley threw herself face first on the bed. She didn't know what to say. Her head was swimming. It was easy, after all, way too easy. That was the worst part of it. She felt Emma next to her, kneeling at her side, and then her hand was stroking her hair.

"What's wrong, Ash?" she asked.

Ashley didn't protest the use of the familiar. "I just had to torture one of my crew," she said.

Emma stretched out on the bed, wrapping her arms and legs around Ashley in an embrace. It was exactly what she needed.

Ashley surrendered to the madness of the universe. "Thanks, Shepard."

* * *

 **Up Next:** Miranda and the real Shepard are in the hands of the sadistic Commander Nicholas. Their only hope is Gavin Archer, but it seems that Nicholas has broken his will.


	29. Frozen Memory

_Sorry for the delay. Had a busy few weeks. I felt it was time to reconnect with Commander Shepard. Much of Josslyn Shepard's personality has been relayed through the characters. We've learned that she's a bit less than perfect, in fact, from Kelly's perspective, she was a user and a cad. I wanted to tell it from Shepard's side. Sometimes great people have great flaws... but often, instead of dragging them down, those flaws become part of the myth._

 _ **Postscript:** A few readers (including one of my betas) were a bit bummed out by Shepard's lack of consideration for Liara, and her near predatory tactics when it comes to hooking up. This is a snapshot of Shepard in time... before she realized that Liara was "the one", and before she died and was brought back by Cerberus (which was a humbling experience for her). Before we finish the story there will be one more crucial flashback that ties it all together. Have faith... by the time this first book is over, there is one thing you can be assured of, and that is: Josslyn Shepard loves Liara T'Soni. There's no baiting going on here.  
_

 _Oh, yes, I said it "first book". This is the first in a trilogy of Mass Effect novels. The second, will be Mass Effect: The Wraith Wars. You've met the Wraiths already... needless to say... look out._

* * *

" _We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are."_

Anaïs Nin

August 20th, 2183

 **Commander Josslyn E. Shepard**

* * *

Josslyn Shepard watched the snow and ice driving against the slanted windows of the Port Hanshan Plaza as she drank her coffee in silence. It was dark now, and it would be another twenty-three hours until Pax was in the sky, plenty of time to get the garage pass she needed. In the distance, a security guard watched her with a wary eye. The guard had been reporting her progress to Anoleis ever since they met with the Administrator earlier that afternoon.

Garrus, who stood just to her right, was being his usual impatient self, fidgeting with his rifle, shuffling on his feet. Try as she might, she couldn't get it into his thick, Turian skull that they weren't about to make the trip to Peak 15 in the dark. She understood his anxiety to some degree. The threat they faced was nearly beyond description. However, rushing headlong into trouble without a plan wasn't going to do anybody any good. They needed to be reasonable, to take only deliberate actions instead of wasting energy on reactions. Shepard owed Kaidan and the rest of the galaxy at least that much.

Liara was on her left. As usual, she had retreated into her head to hide away her emotions and anxiety. On the one hand, Shepard appreciated the exterior calm, so unlike the tension that boiled off her Turian friend. On the other hand, she'd pay good money to know what was going on behind those pretty blue eyes. What thoughts were hiding under those funny little tentacles? Hopefully, the Asari was saving a few of them for her Commander.

Shepard berated herself. ' _There you go again. The entire galaxy is at stake, and you can't manage to put sex aside for more than ten minutes. What is wrong with you?_ '

Of course, she could berate herself all day and nothing would change. She'd still be the same old Josslyn Shepard. There were two wires running through her brain that were always hot enough to melt through any insulation she could coat herself in. One was war, the other women.

It wasn't exactly coincidental that she was primarily able to indulge in the latter by being exceptional at the former. Love was war, and war was love. They both required equal parts awareness, patience, skill, and passion. She'd built her reputation in both arenas by walking the high wire, learning to unleash and direct the savage inside without ever losing control of it. She was good at the game, damn good, but perhaps she'd grown a little too arrogant if recent events were any indication.

She'd been on a losing streak lately. She'd not only lost, but lost big. Chief Williams wasn't interested. Apparently, she was straight as an arrow, or at least too straight to consider Shepard an option. Worse, Ashley's flirting, which had felt so grand early in the game, had left Shepard twisted into a knot so tight, she was starting to worry if she'd ever be able to unravel herself again, and then there was Dr. T'Soni.

Liara was turning out to be a mystery Shepard couldn't quite solve. The Asari ran hot and cold. It was go, go, go, ' _I like you Shepard, I am very interested,_ ' and then full stop. ' _We should focus on our mission._ ' Were all Asari (aside from Consort Shaira) so confused?

Her soldiering wasn't fairing much better. Virmire had been an unmitigated disaster. She'd lost Saren, let her best friend die, and all she had to show for it was the gratitude of a dozen Salarians and a wild story that the Council didn't believe. Hell, she wasn't even sure if she believed it herself.

"Shepard, you are fretting," said Liara.

Shepard shrugged. "Ah, I'll be ok, I just need to shoot something."

Garrus chuckled. "Commander, you're a woman after my own heart."

"Finger getting itchy too, Garrus?" asked Shepard.

"Oh, hell yes," said Garrus.

Liara sighed. "I will never understand how you two can approach killing so casually. These are sentient lives you're discussing. Men and women with families, dreams, and aspirations. Worse, in this case they are law officers."

Garrus shook his head. "Liara, Lorik Qui'in made it pretty clear that these so-called law officers are off the books, doing dirty work, and it's not like we're going to go in blasting. We'll give them a chance to step aside peacefully."

Liara's fretfulness only deepened. "And if they don't?"

"Then we'll have to put them down," said Shepard.

Liara shook her head. "But you say it like you almost enjoy it."

Shepard shrugged. "A part of me does, Liara. As I explained to Garrus just a few days ago; to be a warrior, you have to accept violence, as well as one's own capacity for savagery. The trick is controlling it, using it only when necessary, and never letting the primal part of yourself override the better angels of your nature."

Liara furrowed her pencil-thin eyebrows. "Better angels—a human expression? It sounds vaguely familiar."

Shepard cleared her throat. "Old reference, 19th century North America, but what I'm trying to say is, violence is acceptable only when it serves justice and when it's tempered with compassion."

Liara looked skeptical. "Shepard, I am not sure that makes any sense."

Shepard shrugged. "I enjoy shooting people, and then I feel bad about it later, especially after I learn a bit about the person I killed or maimed."

Garrus cocked his head. "Learn?"

Shepard nodded. "I read obituaries, extra-net blogs, and find out little bits about everyone I've ever killed, when I can. Sometimes I feel rotten about it, other times, if I find out they really deserved it, I'll take a drink and congratulate myself on making the galaxy a slightly better place."

Liara was alarmed. "Shepard, that's… frightening."

"I'm not sure if you're crazy, or just completely badass," said Garrus, "or maybe a little bit of both."

Shepard laughed. "Pretty sure the Council would agree with the first part of your statement."

Garrus nodded. "Hopefully, we can question or capture Benezia. Best case scenario, we bring her in to the Council and she supplies corroboratory evidence about the Reapers."

"Never plan for the best case," said Shepard. "Stick with the likely, and leave room for the worst. We have to assume she's indoctrinated like Shiala and Rana. We may be able to reason with her and get her to see it, but it isn't going to be easy. First we have to figure out what she's doing here."

Liara bit her lip, then forced herself to ask a question. "And what is the worst case scenario, Shepard?"

Shepard sighed. "She's like some of the Salarians we saw on Virmire, so far gone she's a raving lunatic, and we're forced to put her down. I'm sorry, Liara."

The Asari nodded. "Thank you for your honesty, Shepard. I already feared as much."

Shepard turned to Liara and gently set her hand on the Asari woman's shoulder. She felt a slight tremor through her finger tips. Liara was having difficulty suppressing her feelings. She felt so young, so innocent, and yet she was Shepard's senior by over seventy years.

' _Don't play with her_ ,' Shepard reminded herself. ' _She asked for space, so let her have it._ '

Shepard withdrew her hand just as Garrus came to the rescue.

"So, are we going to stand in front of the windows all night and let Anoleis's crew get what they need from Qui'in's office?"

Shepard snorted. "They have no chance without the key, Garrus. Synthetic Insights does AI work, which means their encryption is going to be next to unassailable, especially for a couple of rent-a-cops."

"Ok, then we are waiting for?" wondered the Turian.

Shepard pointed her chin towards the guard watching them. "Been thinking of a plan to throw him off the scent for a few minutes."

"Do you really think it matters? Anoleis is probably watching every move we make on a security feed."

Shepard laughed. "Garrus, haven't you noticed? There are no security feeds here. The whole point of Noveria is secrecy. All these corporations come here to do top secret research, research that they don't want anyone to know about. The last thing they'd allow are security cameras that could record what goes in and out of their labs."

The light went on in the Turian's eyes. "Ahhh, damn, how did I not think of that?"

Shepard shrugged, then opened up a secure com link to message her XO. "Presley, have Ashley and Wrex put together fire teams, then send them out to patrol the docking bay. As soon as they start their routes, tell Joker to power up the Normandy's sensor array."

There was a pause. " _Commander, I feel it's my duty to remind you that scans are strictly illegal on Noveria. Not only would we risk heavy fines, we could get kicked off world._ "

"I know that, Presley," said Shepard. "I didn't say scan anything, I just said power the sensors up. It will set off the alarms in the hangar bay. Shut it down immediately. When Port Hanshan Control contacts you, tell them you were doing repairs on a tracking component and the VI automatically lit up the sensor array to calibrate, then you can send them sensor logs to prove that you didn't run a scan."

" _Uh, ok, Commander, I'll take your word on this. Consider it done_ ," said Presley.

"Over and out," said Shepard.

She clicked off her com link and smiled smugly.

Garrus laughed. "Yea, that'll do it. Every on duty ERCS in this joint is going to run off to the hangar bay."

Liara sighed. "And let's hope the guards don't open fire on Wrex and Ashley."

"If they do, that'll be the last mistake they ever make," said Shepard.

She gulped down the rest of her coffee, crumpled her paper cup, and tossed it into the recycle vacuum port. After giving a signal to her two companions, she took a stroll across the plaza, heading in the general direction of the garage entrance. The guard took notice and began to follow at a distance.

Shepard lowered her voice before asking Garrus. "Did you load that tranq round in your pea-shooter?"

"Yea, just as you asked," he answered. "As soon as he rounds the corner?"

"Yea," said Shepard. "There's a storage closet right there. I'll toss him into it right after you drop him, providing the coast is clear."

"Shouldn't be any traffic at all," said Garrus. "The garage is still off limits, and so is Synthetic Insights."

Liara took the lead as the trio entered the passage to the garage. As Garrus had predicted, there was no on in sight. The Turian set up his shot. Within moments, the guard lay on the ground, too stunned to open his com link. He was nearly comatose by the time Shepard secured him in the storage closet. She checked his vitals, found that his respiration was too shallow, and gave him a light dose of trelazyne to increase his heart rate.

"He's going to wake up a lot sooner," warned Garrus.

Shepard nodded. "Yea, but at least he'll wake up."

They took the elevator up to Qui'in's lab. Garrus changed out his ammo while Shepard checked the time on her Omni-tool and tried to gauge how long it would be until Joker fired up the sensor array. The elevator doors opened, revealing an empty foyer. They passed through to the main Synthetic Insights entrance and were immediately greeted by a couple of guards. Both of them looked nervous.

"Freeze, Hanshan Security, this office is sealed," said a woman who was clearly not up for a fight.

Shepard smirked. "What will you do if I don't?"

The woman stammered. "You're the Spectre, right? Lorik Qui'in is under investigation."

Shepard shook her head. "No, Anoleis is paying you to shake this place down. Does Captain Matsuo know you're here?"

The guard backed down immediately, lowering her weapon. "Hey, I'm not the one who wants Qui'in. Anoleis has a varren up his ass about this guy. How about this? You pretend you didn't see us, we'll pretend we didn't see you."

Shepard stepped aside to let them out. They went straight to the elevator without looking back once.

"Well, that was nice and easy," said Garrus.

There was a soft hissing noise from the far side of the office. Shepard recognized it at once; the intake of a weapon's gas cooling system. She let out a sigh.

"Dammit, Garrus," she said.

"I know, I know, spoke too soon…"

Shepard's team went into action immediately. There were three more guards behind the retainer walls. Liara and Shepard knocked them out of cover with their biotics while Garrus ventilated them in short order. It was sort of a sad display. ERCS training, while adequate for guard duty, didn't measure up in a real firefight. Once the guards were down, she lowered her pistol.

Shepard groaned. "Yea, well, sorry about the carpet, Lorik."

Garrus laughed. "As soon as he said it, you just knew…"

Shepard nodded. "Never fails; talk about the devil…"

"He _always_ walks through the door," said Garrus.

Liara stared at her two companions. "One day I hope to be able to decipher this private language you speak."

Garrus contorted his face into what appeared to be the Turian equivalent of a grin. "Just a few more firefights, T'Soni. You'll get there."

They found Qui'in's computer on the 2nd floor of the office. Shepard used the encryption key to extract the files while Garrus kept a lookout. Just before they finished, Joker jumped on the com.

" _Yea, Commander, just a little heads up. You have a shitload of pissed off ERCS guards headed your way,"_ he said.

"I know, Joker," she answered. "Do me a damn favor though, and stay off the coms. I don't want them to get itchy and use a jammer on us."

" _Ok, ok,"_ said Joker. " _No reason to be surly with me._ "

The encryption key beeped, signaling that all the data had been retrieved. Shepard thought she heard the elevator open on the lower floor. She made eye contact with Liara and Garrus to let them know to be ready. The trio readied their weapons as they made their way out the office and across a small corridor. Several ERCS guards were blocking their path to the stairs.

A blonde haired woman stepped forward. Shepard recognized her from an earlier incident in the docking bay. The name was Sergeant Kaira Stirling. Shepard had made her as a biotic, modest ability, but Stirling was under some sort of delusion that she was the real deal. She was itching to test herself against a Spectre. This wasn't going to end well for her.

Stirling sneered as Shepard approached. "I don't think you're supposed to be in here, Shepard."

Shepard grinned. "No, I'm not. Are you?"

Stirling brayed on, seemingly oblivious to the threat that the Spectre and her two companions presented. "Anoleis would throw you off world for what you did here. I won't. You know what we did to cop killers on my world?"

Garrus interjected. "Your men are dirty, Sergeant. You're here off-duty, breaking the law for bribe money."

Shepard gave her one more chance, despite knowing with near certainty that Stirling wasn't going to take it. "I have a mission to complete. I did what I had to do."

A blue barrier encased Stirling. "I don't care."

Before Stirling could release a throw, Liara tagged her with a warp, briefly staggering the Sergeant and tearing apart her biotic barrier. Shepard snapped her arm forward, releasing a powerful throw from her fingertips. It caught Stirling full force, cracking her skull and breaking her neck in one shot. Her body flopped to the floor with a sickening thump.

Garrus cut down two men with deadly accurate fire from his assault rifle. The inferno rounds he'd loaded into his weapon burned through their armor as if it wasn't even there. They fell to the floor screaming, clutching at their searing wounds. Another guard tried to make a break for it, but Liara lifted him off the ground and emptied her pistol into him as he flailed about helplessly.

"More on the lower floor," said Garrus as he headed for the stairwell.

Shepard beat him to the punch. She vaulted over the railing, using her biotics to cushion her landing on the floor below. Before the confused guards could open fire, she hurled a powerful singularity into their midst. The spinning vortex of biotic energy sucked in the guards, nearly all the office furniture on the lower floor, the wall hangings—even chunks of plaster and carpet. It was perhaps a little more powerful than she'd planned.

The helpless ERCS guards caught in the vortex were being torn apart. Arms, legs, and spinal columns snapping under the strain of the intense gravitational force. Their screams echoed across the office floor. For a brief moment Shepard worried that the singularity had gotten away from her and was going to gobble up the entire office. Fortunately, the accumulation of objects diffused the heart of the singularity, overloading it with mass, and causing it to dissipate into a blinding blue nova, and finally into a shower of sparks.

"By the goddess!" said Liara. "Shepard, you really must be more careful."

"Spirits, what kind of implants are they sticking into humans these days?" wondered Garrus.

"All right, all right, easy," said Shepard. "I just got a little excited."

Garrus cleared his throat. "Yea, I guess. So, we need to get this data to Qui'in. When are we supposed to meet him?"

"Twelve hours from now," said Shepard. "He'll be laying low until then. That gives us plenty of time to grab a meal and some shuteye. I, for one, haven't had much sleep the past few days—not since Virmire."

"Well, let's get back to the Normandy, then," said Garrus. "I could stand to hit the rack myself."

"I actually booked a hotel suite here in the plaza," said Shepard. "It has a private hot water therapy pool."

Garrus cringed. "Ugh, I'll never understand your species, Shepard. Back in ancient times on my home world, we'd use tubs of scalding water to torture our enemies, but you humans do it to yourselves, willingly, and you seem to derive pleasure from it, even more than Asari. It's damn peculiar if you ask me."

Shepard snickered. "This Turian aversion to water is curious, Garrus. Ever heard of a bird bath?"

Garrus held up his hand. "Stop right there. I just don't want to know."

They took the elevator down. Shepard thought about it briefly, then spoke up.

"So, up for some wine and a little hot water time, Liara?" she asked.

Liara scowled. "Shepard, you need to stop pressing. We already talked about this. I care about you a great deal, but we can't focus on us right now, especially not while I'm thinking about what I'm going to say to my mother. I'm going back to the ship with Garrus. Perhaps you should enjoy your alone time. Use it to still yourself."

Shepard bit her lip.

Garrus shuffled his feet. "Damn, and I thought it was cold _outside_ the plaza."

The elevator doors opened, revealing a woman waiting on the other side. It was Anoleis's secretary, Gianna Parasini. Shepard was never so grateful for an impromptu visit from a stranger, especially one she found so fetching. Gianna wore a tight, fuchsia business suit with an attached skirt. The entire ensemble fit her figure like a glove. It was just the type of distraction Shepard needed at the moment.

Parasini looked nervous. "Commander, there've been reports of noise from the Synthetics Insights Office. Would you know anything about it?"

Shepard shot a smile at the secretary. "Probably Anoleis's thugs tearing up the place."

Parasini rolled her eyes. "Smart ass, huh? I can work with that. Before you meet with Lorik Qui'in, find me at the hotel lobby. I'd like to make you an offer. I'll also buy you a drink."

"Hmm, well, if I have to drink with someone…" Shepard drawled.

Liara made a sniffing sound and walked away from the conversation. She headed back to the Normandy. Garrus lingered while Parasini also took her leave.

"You want me to stick around in case there's trouble?" he asked.

"I'm not worried," said Shepard. "Anoleis has played all his cards, and I have a funny feeling he's put himself in a bind."

Garrus nodded. "Yea, I figured, but are you ok, Commander? There's a lot of pressure on you right now. I know you were close with Lieutenant Alenko, and there hasn't been much time for grieving. Also, it seems there's tension between you and Dr. T'Soni."

Shepard sighed. "Yea, well, Garrus, there's an old human saying."

Garrus chuckled. "Isn't there always? Ok, hit me with it."

"Love," said Shepard, "causes stress."

"There's a Turian proverb that's similar," said Garrus. "There's also a sec…"

Shepard interjected. "And sex relieves stress."

The Turian nodded. "So, I'll, uh, see you in about nine hours?"

"Eleven," said Shepard. "I have a _lot_ of stress."

Garrus nodded. "Good hunting, Commander."

They parted ways in the plaza. Garrus followed Liara back to the Normandy, while Shepard hurried to the hotel. She intended to change and grab a quick shower before she met with Parasini. She had plans.

* * *

The line at the bar was longer than she'd anticipated. The Salarian who was serving up drinks appeared to be harried, and considering his race that was saying something. Shepard picked Gianna Parasini out of the crowd. She stood near a column not far from the line, still wearing that outstanding skirt suit, and staring in the direction of the hotel entrance. Shepard approached her.

She raised her voice to a near shout. "Over here, Ms. Secretary."

Parasini gave a little start, then turned around. Her eyes widened. "Wow, dress blues. Do you have an important meeting?"

Shepard smiled. "Very important."

Parasini cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? Well, I hope you saved a little time for me. Looks like we'll have to skip the beer though."

"You are the meeting," said Shepard.

Parasini fumbled with her words. "Um, well, I… I'm sorry, Commander, I'm a little confused. I have an important issue, but there's no need to be this…"

Shepard cut her short. "I really don't care about the issue, Gianna. If it's reasonable, I'll do it, but it's my secondary focus tonight."

Parasini stared ahead. Shepard watched the woman's eyes dart around as her mind tried to interpret the tone and intent of the words. As soon as Parasini began to grasp the obvious, her cheeks flushed, and she began to fidget nervously. She was intrigued, but at the same time looking for an out. Shepard could tell, aside from the usual experimentation in her teenage years, Parasini had no experience with women.

She tried to play coy. "I'm, um, flattered, Commander, but…"

Shepard moved in close to Parasini, allowing her genetically enhanced pheromones to do their work. Nothing in the world existed except for the exquisite woman in front of her. Shepard emptied herself, letting all her needs and cares fall away. She let go of her own id and became a mirror, reflecting Parasini's needs, wants, and desires. She fixed her mouth into a mischievous smile, and let the confidence radiate outwards.

She imagined Parasini as a tree, basking in the radiance of a newborn sun. Photosynthesis was about to begin. Shepard could sense the woman's heart rate increasing. Her eyes widened as her mind considered new possibilities and horizons.

Shepard set her fingers lightly on the crook of Parasini's arm, tracing a symbol lightly into the fabric. "I've been wanting to peel you out of that pretty pink suit since the moment we met."

Parasini's blush deepened. "Commander, I'm not attr… I mean…"

Shepard could practically read the woman's mind. Parasini was reasoning it all out, creating a ready-made excuse for herself. She'd been focused on an important job for some time, and now she was at the payoff. Whatever it was, she needed Shepard to bring it to fulfilment. She couldn't risk alienating the Commander, or she'd lose all that hard work, so why not give in? This was the job, after all. She'd just have to make that sacrifice. That's what this was, yes, indeed, a sacrifice for her career.

Parasini grabbed Shepard's arm and squeezed.

"Wow, that muscle density is… impressive," she said.

"I could lift you with one hand," said Shepard.

Parasini giggled. "They say that with some of the new enhancements, Alliance soldiers can arm wrestle a Krogan."

Shepard smiled warmly. "I'm not sure about that, but I can beat the average, or above average adult human male without wrapping my thumb. It's all in the fingers."

Parasini's voice lowered into a husky tone. "I've heard biotics have strong fingers, because of the implants and all."

Shepard locked her index and middle finger together, brushing them lightly across Parasini's hand. "That may have something to do with it. I am fairly exceptional at the two finger technique, or, if you prefer, three…"

Parasini nodded mutely. They locked arms. Shepard escorted the woman up to her room.

* * *

Josslyn Shepard stood naked in front of the one-way hotel window while her temporary lover lay almost lifeless on the nearby bed. The sweat dripped down her back, tickling her spine, making her smile. She adjusted the vent, allowing cool air to flutter across her nipples in little puffs. She ran her tongue around the inside of her cheeks, relishing the aftertaste of sex. Shepard craved more. She was just getting started. She hoped that Parasini could recover soon.

She was good at this, even better at fucking than she was at fighting. She loved the chase, the foreplay, and above all, the messy act itself. She felt none of the shame or moral weight that most humans carried when it came to sex and love. It was an odd thing, really, considering how she'd been raised—all the religion, all the rules, and all the guilt that came along with the former, but Josslyn Shepard was guiltless, not by the absolution of any god, but by her own allotment of personal grace.

Perhaps it was ego or pride, but she felt chosen. She was a good person, good to herself, and to those around her. She'd survived things that would have broken others into pieces, and she'd come through it without carrying any hatred or bitterness. She felt alive, complete, and whole, near immovable from the lofty perch she'd alighted. She loved her job, her life, her ship, her crew, and she embraced being a champion for the people who would never know this privilege, this beautiful existence. She'd do anything, give everything she had to as many people as she could, and it would never empty her.

The only thing in the universe that gave her pause, that frightened her, that forged guilt that could weight her down was failure. Failure tasted foul on her tongue. She drank from that cup with great reluctance, and when she had to swallow it, she'd vomit it back up as if it were caustic venom.

Gianna cooed, then let out a delighted gurgle of satisfaction. Shepard could hear her roll over on the bed, could sense the woman's eyes tracking across her back, from the top of her spine, down, down, and then, lingering, and down to the knees, the ankles, back up, stopping, hungering.

"God, you are beautiful, Commander. You look like one of the statues in a museum."

Shepard let her eyes caress Gianna's reflection in the window. "Which statue?"

Gianna flashed a Cheshire grin. "I can't decide between Aphrodite and Adonis. Would Adonis offend you?"

"I'm perfectly fine with either," answered Shepard.

Gianna sighed. "I can still barely move. Sorry I passed out for a bit. I thought I was going to have a heart attack or a stroke, I've never…"

Shepard laced an observation with flattery. "You were storing up lot of tension in that body of yours, that, lovely, delicious, body. I merely provided the release."

Gianna giggled. "Provided is one way of putting it. I've never been with anyone like you. I could get addicted to you."

"I'll feed your addiction as long as you want," said Shepard.

It was a lie, but that was ok. She'd be leaving soon.

"Soldiers…" said Gianna. "Duty lets you off the hook. I'll never know if you would have really stuck around for me."

Shepard turned back to Gianna, who was spread across the bed like a decadent feast. The sight filled her with gluttony, but she forestalled the ravenous hunger, choosing instead to nibble at the delicate drippings with her eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, just yet, and we've got hours…" she said.

Gianna dropped in a lure. "I hope this isn't going to cause a problem with your Asari companion."

Shepard bit on it deliberately. "I gave her every chance, but she chose to stay away. I'm only responsible for a heart that's given, and my own."

Gianna tried to land her catch. "What about my heart?"

"You only gave me your body," said Shepard, "conditionally."

"You're a wise one, aren't you," said Gianna.

Shepard laughed. "I thought you said wise ass?"

"I'll append that; perfect ass," said Gianna.

"Is that all you want?" asked Shepard.

"That, and a little dance with Lorik Qui'in," said Gianna.

Shepard cocked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I'm not really Anoleis's secretary," explained Gianna.

"You're an undercover cop," said Shepard. "I figured out that much."

"Cooperate security," said Gianna. "I'm building a case against Anoleis."

"Right," said Shepard. "You need me to convince him to turn over his evidence, or testify?"

"Both," said Gianna.

"But then I lose my bargaining power," said Shepard.

"I'll give you my garage pass," said Gianna.

Shepard moved closer. She held out her hand. "And…"

Gianna grabbed hold, pulling Shepard onto the bed with her.

"My body, answered Gianna. "The rest of the night, all night, and maybe just a little piece of my heart. If you want it."

"I do," said Shepard. "I really do."

* * *

" _Shepard Commander?"_

" _Sorry, Legion. I'm not doing a very good job at this, am I?"_

" _Query?"_

" _I don't want to let go of any of these memories. I feel as if I'd be losing a part of myself."_

" _Insufficient data to evaluate your statement, but it is now irrelevant."_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _First, we are in immediate danger."_

" _Explain."_

" _One of the Cerberus operatives is familiar with Geth subroutines. He has identified our processes in your implants."_

" _Well, that's no good. He'll be able to exploit them, won't he?"_

" _Yes, but curiously, he has refrained from taking action."_

" _Why?"_

" _Again, insufficient data."_

" _Of course."_

" _Observation: he appears to be under considerable duress."_

" _Could be they are torturing him or coercing him. Just another day at the playground for Cerberus."_

" _However, this discovery is timely."_

" _How so? You said, first, earlier. What is second?"_

" _Second, we have made an important discovery. One that may save us."_

" _Tell me."_

" _We have discovered how to download data into your subatomic storage area. This will solve your memory issue. We can clear space after storing your memories, thus you may be able to access them again. Also, we have gained limited understanding of some of your new capabilities."_

" _Biotics, by chance?"_

" _No, indoctrination."_

" _What?"_

" _You now possess a limited ability to indoctrinate."_

" _Oh, God, what did the Reapers do to me?"_

" _Undetermined, but this may be the key to our survival."_

" _How is that?"_

" _If we can affect the Cerberus operative."_

" _You mean indoctrinate him."_

" _Yes."_

" _It seems wrong."_

" _Shepard Commander, we have no choice."_

" _I don't suppose we do. Ok, Legion, let's try."_

" _Proceeding…"_

* * *

 **Up Next:** Time to catch up with Miranda Lawson.


	30. Broken

_This chapter features the most awkward hug in the history of Science Fiction. ;0)  
_

* * *

" _Of pain you could wish only one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes."_

George Orwell

March 17th, 2188

 **Dr. Gavin Archer**

* * *

The noise wouldn't stop. Gavin couldn't isolate it. He'd tried, looked all over the cold lab, under the tables, checked all the wiring, and all the instruments. He'd even gone over the entire space with a microfrequency meter. It simply wasn't there. He had to be imagining it. He felt like he was losing his mind.

And who could blame him after what that evil bitch had put him through? He shuddered at the thought of her. He held up his left hand, flexed the artificial joints, watching the servos adjust the little metal rods that had replaced his fingers. He was fortunate that the Cerberus doctors had managed to save his right hand, though he didn't want to look at it for fear that he couldn't stomach the sight. After all, the skin grafts hadn't completely healed.

He flashed back to the heat of the torch, the unimaginable pain, the smell of burning flesh, and the sound of Commander Nicholas's sickening laughter. Despite the near freezing temperatures in the cold lab, a single bead of sweat trickled down his forehead and dripped from his brow. Panic seized him when he realized that she was coming back soon. She could be here any day, and he hadn't made much progress. He dared not disappoint her, in fact, he'd been holding onto a piece of information he hadn't shared with anyone else, just to please her.

Suddenly, the urge to keep it secret overwhelmed him. Why was he entertaining these foolish thoughts? It was madness to withhold information from Commander Nicholas, utter madness! Yet, he had no choice. There was that damn noise again. Where the hell was it coming from? No, no, he couldn't give it up to Nicholas. That piece of information was his one chance to be free. It wasn't a rational thought, but he couldn't shake it.

The cold lab com channel buzzed. It was Petrovsky.

The General made a request. " _Dr. Archer, could you dress down and meet me in cell block two?_ "

As usual, he spoke in a polite, dignified tone. All the interactions Gavin had with the man were professional. Of course, it was all for show. Just because he refused to get his own hands dirty didn't make him any less of a monster. Even if it wasn't exactly his style, everything that Nicholas had done to Gavin had been approved, and perhaps even ordered by Petrovsky.

He limped to the foyer. The left knee was still inflamed, painful. It was never going to be the same again. Gavin used the haptic key-in to input his codes, and then waited while the decontamination units did their work. The hissing of steam unnerved him. It reminded him too much of something Nicholas had employed early on in their _instructional_ sessions.

While he changed out of his cold lab garments he felt a tingling at the back of his skull. The noise was gone now, but that was no comfort. Suddenly, the fear of Nicholas overwhelmed him. These last few weeks without her on his back had allowed him to regroup and regain a portion of his humanity. When she returned, she'd take it away again, along with his last shred of dignity. He'd allow her, of course. He had no choice.

He hated her, but he'd do anything for her, anything to prevent more pain. Well, except for tell her that little bit of information that was probably important. That he could keep to himself, the one last thing he could call his own. The only thing that he didn't have to give her. Heaven knows he'd given her everything else. He finished dressing in his prisoner garb, reflecting on his circumstances with bitterness.

Petrovsky was waiting for him at the entrance of cell block two. The sight of the brushed alloy doors filled him with dread. Behind those doors was a series of high security cells, and one of them, Cell 2A, had been his home for too long. The things that had happened in that cell would mark him forever, both physically and mentally. He'd never truly be able to escape it, not even if it were a galaxy away.

"Dr. Archer, it is good to see you are healing," said Petrovsky.

' _Fuck you,_ ' thought Gavin, though he dared not say it.

He nodded meekly, averting his eyes from the General.

"Oh, come now, Dr. Archer. You can hardly hold me to blame. If only you had cooperated, none of this would have happened," said Petrovsky.

Gavin struggled to conceal his contempt.

Petrovsky sighed. "Admittedly, Michelle has yet to refine her methods. I regret that, but she is young, and passionate, and I cannot argue with the results."

Gavin wanted to protest. ' _Refine her methods?_ _She cut me to pieces, burned me, beat me, skinned me alive, raped me over and over, every day, and she enjoyed it._ '

Gavin could still see the expression on her face, the unmistakable look in her eyes, the way she lit up whenever she inflicted suffering. She wasn't just intoxicated by power. Gavin had witnessed the woman achieve sexual gratification while she tortured him. She was irredeemable, a true sadist in every sense of the word.

Petrovsky stared at Gavin. "Of course you disagree. I understand. I would too, were I in your position."

Gavin replied, perhaps foolishly. "General, it's inevitable that you _will_ be in my position. Perhaps one day soon. If there's one thing Cerberus has proven, it's that when you create a monster, it will always turn on you."

Fortunately, Petrovsky seemed to ignore the comment. Instead, he led Gavin down the corridor to cell 2G. He paused to speak before opening the door.

"Dr. Archer, it's important that the prisoner understands her situation. If you can convince her to cooperate fully, from the beginning, then you might save her a great deal of suffering," he said.

Gavin laughed. "Why should a prisoner listen to me?"

"If you saw yourself as you are now, you would understand," replied Petrovsky.

He opened the door. Inside the cell, a woman sat in a metal chair at the far end of the room. Gavin was all too familiar with that metal chair. It featured four restraints: wrist cuffs, leg cuffs, a neck brace, and a security belt about the waist. All of them were wired for electrical shock. It also featured a water drip that was accessible if you craned your head slightly to the left. Gavin's neck was still chaffed from repeating the action over the long weeks he'd spent restrained in his chair.

The woman had been stripped of all her belongings, and like Gavin before her, was clothed only in a gray hospital gown. Her head had been shaven clean. Polygraph and sleep suppression devices had been screwed into her skull without the use of anesthetics. In addition, she'd been fitted with a catheter and an IV drip. All the nutrients she'd receive over the next few weeks or months, would be provided intravenously.

There was a bench not far from the chair that featured various restraints and interrogation instruments. Gavin shut down at the sight of it. He wanted to run from the room, screaming, but his fear of the consequences kept him riveted in place. The whole scene was sickening, and worse, he'd been made a partner in this medieval practice. It was despicable.

Petrovsky led him to the woman. Gavin recognized certain features, but could not properly place the face in context until Petrovsky spoke.

The Cerberus General mocked her. "Ms. Lawson, I believe you remember Dr. Gavin Archer?"

The woman scowled.

Petrovsky continued. "Ah, I see, still the silent one. I brought Dr. Archer here to present my case. I was hoping you could see reason. Humanity needs you, Lawson. You've already provided one miracle, and all we are asking is that you succeed again. If you cooperate with us, we can actually deliver on the Illusive Man's original promise of a better future for humanity. I feel that we deserve a second chance, and so do you."

Miranda Lawson remained silent.

Petrovsky produced an instrument from his security belt that Gavin had mistaken for a second side arm. He showed it to Miranda Lawson, then activated the device and set it on the table nearby. Gavin recognized it as an Omni-Jammer, a device often used by high end Cerberus Operatives. It was near foolproof.

"You're familiar enough with this tool to recognize its authenticity and activation protocols. In addition, Dr. Archer could examine it to prove it is working. I am going to allow the two of you to have a private conversation," said Petrovsky.

He left the room. Miranda Lawson remained silent. Gavin search the room for a chair, but found none, so he sat on the floor in front of her to take some of the pressure off his knee. He saw little point in talking to her. If she knew what she was going to face, it would only deepen her fear and make it that much worse. Unfortunately, she broke the silence first.

Her voice was scratchy. "God, Dr. Archer, what the hell did they do to you?"

He bowed his head. "You don't want to know."

"So, they've broken you, and now you're working with them again?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I do what I'm forced to do. No more, no less."

She scoffed. "And I suppose you're here to show me what will happen if I don't cooperate from the start."

Gavin shrugged. "Lawson, it's going to happen anyway. That's the part Petrovsky doesn't quite grasp, or else he does and he just doesn't care."

Lawson adjusted herself uncomfortably, pressing against her restraints. "What the hell?"

"She likes it," said Gavin. "Commander Nicholas, she gets off on hurting people, and she seems to hate you just on principal, so it's going to be bad. Your only chance is that she never returns, so pray that's what happens."

"Who the hell is she?" asked Lawson.

Gavin stared up at the former Cerberus Operative with a mix of pity and disdain. "She's like you, only more advanced. The perfect woman, or so she thinks. She's quite capable, a biotic of significant ability, more powerful than Shepard or Subject Zero. I don't even think she uses implants."

Miranda grunted in indignation. "Someone like me, like I used to be. Probably arrogant and cold as hell."

Gavin shook his head. "No, Ms. Lawson, she is much worse than anything you ever pretended to be. She's a monstrosity, and she seems to have a hold over the General. Perhaps she's his lover, or something similar."

"So, she hates me and she's going to torture me," said Lawson.

Gavin nodded.

Lawson laughed. "Gavin, I was trained to resist torture. She'll never get what she wants from me."

"She will," he said. "Most interrogators don't have the stomach or patience for this kind of evil, but she's an artist. They say you can't ever be great at something unless you love doing it, and I don't think there is a sentient person in this whole galaxy that enjoys dispensing pain as much as Commander Nicholas."

Lawson changed the subject. "So what is this about, if I may ask? What do they need my help with?"

"It's Commander Shepard, or what's left of her," said Gavin.

Lawson's eyes widened in shock. "What the hell are you saying?"

"Cerberus extracted her corpse from the Citadel before the Alliance could get there," said Gavin. "She's still somewhere between life and death. I'm still not sure if that's a side effect from Project Lazarus, or if it has to do with what the Reapers did to her."

Lawson's lips trembled. "What did the Reapers do?"

Gavin sighed. "They changed her in some fundamental way, down to the cellular level and even further—perhaps even on the subatomic level. As near as I can tell, she's not an organic anymore, but neither is she a machine. She's some sort of hybrid, and we don't understand the purpose of her design, or how to communicate with her or heal her body. They're terrified she's going to die and take her secrets with her."

Lawson's voice lowered to a near whisper. "A synthesis, oh my God, if that's true, if she's…"

"You understand," said Gavin. "Life as we know it will change. She could hold information we could scarcely imagine, possibly the secret to immortality itself."

"Dr. Archer, we can't allow Cerberus to get their hands on this information," she explained.

"I don't think we have a choice in the matter, either way," he said. "She's slipping away, Ms. Lawson, slowly but surely. Each day her brain functions continue to diminish. It's almost as if…"

Gavin had an original thought. ' _She's hiding._ '

It was so obvious. Why didn't he realize it before? A brilliant defense, really, hiding in one's own subconscious, perhaps in her memories, which were the most active parts of her brain. Again, this was information that Nicholas would want to know, but again, he felt compelled not to tell her. He couldn't even say it to Lawson. The device looked functional, but he didn't trust it.

"As if what?" asked Lawson.

Gavin sighed. "Nothing," he said. "I'm just grasping at straws. The technology in play is beyond my experience. It's advanced even past the standard capabilities of the Reapers themselves."

"The next step in their evolution," said Miranda. "Dr. Archer, be careful, it might not be Shepard in there."

Gavin hadn't considered that either, and he certainly should have. He was concerned. There was something he was missing. What about the noise? The noise, the noise, the noise; the noise was important, but he couldn't grasp why. It was almost as if he was blocked from understanding this important piece of information.

There was also something else at play, a gnawing sensation he had since the moment he set eyes on Lawson. There was something important he was supposed to do, but no one could know, no one could see. He couldn't stop himself. He was _compelled_.

"May I touch you, hug you perhaps?" he asked Lawson.

Lawson shifted uncomfortably in her restraining chair. "Absolutely not."

Gavin slowly pushed himself off the floor and staggered to his feet.

"Please," begged Gavin. "You don't know what it's like to go without friendly human contact. The woman tortured me for weeks. It was… horrible."

Lawson's tone changed to pity. "I'm sorry, Dr. Archer, I really am, but I'm not exactly a friend. I'd prefer it if you… oh, please sit down, don't…"

Before she could finish protesting, he wrapped himself around her in an embrace. It felt completely awkward, but it allowed him to deliver the message. It was important that the message was passed on to an ally, quite important. He could not resist _her_ demand.

He whispered it into Lawson's ear. "Shepard tells me not to worry. She'll find us a way out of here, eventually."

Miranda's body stiffened in surprise, then relaxed. He felt her exhale.

Moments later a group of Cerberus guards burst through the door and pulled him away.

Lawson played along. "Keep that freak off of me!"

Gavin grunted in pain as the Cerberus guards manhandled him and carted him away. He didn't mind so much. Perhaps they would return him to the lab. He realized, suddenly, that he was beginning to miss that familiar, ever persistent, noise.

* * *

 **Up Next:** Samantha meets A.I.M.E.E. Mk 2


	31. Normandy's Child

_Joker has a surprise waiting for him when/if he returns from his mission. (Just edited, sorry, late night right and was so tired I missed a lot of things)  
_

* * *

" _To be human is to be 'a' human, a specific person with a life history and idiosyncrasy and point of view; artificial intelligence suggest that the line between intelligent machines and people blurs most when a puree is made of that identity."_

Brian Christian

March 18th, 2188

 **Samantha Traynor**

* * *

The blinking light on her pad beckoned to her, but Samantha resisted the urge to pick it up. No, she wasn't going to lose another chess game to Aimee. She'd lost seventy-three consecutive matches, and she refused to give her opponent another victory, not one more. She'd come up with several images of her opponent, but none quite matched up to the personality behind the player name, Aimee_Mk2.

At first, she'd worried that somehow, someway, Polgara T'Suza had tracked her down, but her old Asari nemesis was a dry, humorless alien, a complete snob. Aimee had real wit, a cornball sense of humor, and a dirty mind. She was also a hell of a flirt, if indeed it was a she. Samantha was increasingly skeptical. It could be anyone, really.

The extranet registry protocols listed Aimee as a twenty-one year old human female. You couldn't log on incognito unless you were skilled enough to circumnavigate the system. That was the catch. Samantha was quite capable of setting up a false extranet identity, in fact, during her college years she'd done it for a few friends for fun. If Aimee's cyber skills were even a fraction of her chess IQ… well, needless to say she could be anyone. It wasn't a comforting idea.

Samantha crawled out of bed. As she flipped the sheet out of way, she noticed a dried white substance on the sheet. What was it? Lotion, the ice cream from the other night? She was about to sniff it, then thought better of it. She flipped the sheet and noticed several others, as well as crumbs. Cookie crumbs, cracker crumbs, and other particles that could be just about anything. The bed was disgusting.

She looked around the disaster area that used to pass for an apartment. It was much the same. She'd set out all Diana's stuff, every shirt, every skirt, coat, pair of trousers. It was Samantha's way of holding on, same as the sheets, but the sheets needed to be laundered and the apartment cleaned. The memorial wasn't working. It didn't smell like Diana anymore, and certainly it didn't look like anyplace that she'd live.

Samantha stumbled out of bed, used the toilet, and looked at herself in the mirror. She was in worse shape than the apartment. Hair was a tangled mess, dark circles under the eyes, and a breakout of acne on her forehead and chin. She'd been eating too much chocolate and ice cream. The tank she wore was grimy. When did she last change out of it, Tuesday? Oh, God, it was Monday. She'd been wearing the same tank top for nearly a full week. At least she'd changed her underwear, on… um, Friday? Yes, she remembered, Friday, because that was her last clean pair. Yup, it was official. Things were out of hand.

She stumbled to the kitchen, clattered the dishes around and found a mug that was clean enough to rinse off. She swished some hot water around in it, then filled it with café noir from the dispenser. Tufts of steam curled off the near black liquid. She took a little sip and burned her lips and tongue. Shit, well, if the cup was teeming with bacteria it was probably safe to drink from now. She picked her way through the rubble and crawled back into bed with her mug.

Well now, the apartment didn't seem so bad from here. Maybe she could put off cleaning it a few more days. Also, the shirt she was wearing wasn't that foul after all. Especially since she hadn't showered in days, and well, she'd just ruin a clean one. Yea, she'd sit right here in bed, take in some caffeine, maybe listen to a little music, find another bottle of wine, and then around noon she'd have a good cry. Samantha realized it was rather pathetic, but she'd settled into this routine and she just didn't have the strength to break it.

She looked at her data pad again. Well, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to at least check it while she sipped her café noir. Snatching up the pad, she activated the haptic interface. Her backlog of emails was manageable. Her chess channel chat light blinked, which meant Aimee was there. Oh, what the hell. She logged on. There was stream of messages from her friend.

Aimee_Mk2: _Samantha, are you there?_

Aimee_Mk2: _Samantha, are you still asleep?_

Aimee_Mk2: _Wake up!_

Aimee_Mk2: _How about a game of chess?_

Aimee_Mk2: _Ok, forget that, you seemed pretty mad after the last loss._

Aimee_Mk2: _What about a joke?_

Aimee_Mk2: _So, new joke. Are you ready?_

Aimee_Mk2: _An old, bedraggled mercenary, weary from battle, finds his way to a seedy bar on Omega. He notices an ugly Vorcha, and an attractive Asari working the counter. The sign reads: Beer: 5 Credits, Sandwich: 10 credits, Hand Job: 25 credits._

 _The Asari approaches the mercenary. "Can I help you?" she asks._

 _He leans in close and asks, "Are you the one who gives the hand jobs?"_

 _She smiles seductively, and says, "Why, yes, I am."_

 _The mercenary replies, "Well, wash your hands, I want a beer and a sandwich!"_

Aimee_Mk2: _diglaughfilex42150.14r3,_ _Did you like that one, do you get it?_

Aimee_Mk2: _You see it's funny because the mercenary, he's just too tired to think about sex, and there's no way he wants a Vorcha to serve him food, and, ok, well, maybe you'll understand the joke without me explaining it._

Aimee_Mk2: _There's another variation of that joke involving a Krogan, but I don't think you'd appreciate that one based on past reaction patterns._

Aimee_Mk2: _Are you sure you don't want to play another game of chess?_

Aimee_Mk2: _I'll try to let you win this time._

Aimee_Mk2: _That's not insulting is it? I don't mean to insult you._

Aimee_Mk2: _Maybe a game of Tic-tac-toe?_

Aimee_Mk2: _How about global thermonuclear war?_

Aimee_Mk2: _That was a joke. Reference: 2oth century cinema._

Aimee_Mk2: _I've watched a lot of old vids lately._

Aimee_Mk2: _How about some adult entertainment. Well, you've probably seen all the recent episodes of Emanuella's Erotic Alien Adventures. Not that you're missing much. The quality is really dropping off, along with the novelty I suppose._

Aimee_Mk2: _How about something a little more hardcore?_ _vfilera42552445a1_

Aimee_Mk2: _Pretty intense, huh?_

Even though she probably should have known better, Samantha clicked the link, and immediately gagged, then spit her coffee all over her shirt. Dammit, now she'd actually have to change it. She was also a little bit insulted, actually, skip to creeped out. Extranet identity security aside, Aimee's behavior was simply too odd for a twenty-one year old woman. In fact, it was more reminiscent of a twelve year old boy, either that or Joker was pranking her. The obsession with porn was certainly a match.

Of course that theory was full of holes. Joker was terrible at chess. He was also away on a classified mission. Who else could it be? Samantha was increasingly nervous. In moments of weakness she'd chatted too freely with Aimee, given away too much. Considering the recent resurgence in Cerberus activity, this wasn't good. It was probably time to cut ties.

She logged on.

Chess_Trainr2: _Aimee, that was disgusting. Don't send me files like that again._

Aimee_Mk2: _fxcryinggirl171_ _I'm sorry, Samantha. I thought you liked that sort of thing. You've sent me similar things before. Remember the other night?_

Samantha groaned. She vaguely recalled sending something pretty racy, but it certainly wasn't that explicit. It was also sent after several bottles of wine. God, what had she done? What if this was some kid she'd been flirting with? She tried to recover.

Chess_Trainr2: _Yea, but I was drunk, and it wasn't gross. Seriously, that's disgusting._

Aimee_Mk2: _Why? It's a sex act like many others._

Chess_Trainr2: _Sorry, that's just porn. It's too explicit, and definitely not to my taste. You realize that most people don't do that, right? Those are film actors, and they've taken extra precautions and other sanitary/protection measures._

Aimee_Mk2: _My apologies, I don't understand much about sexuality yet. Most of what I know, I've learned from watching Commander Shepard, and she did similar things on occasion._

Chess_Trainr2: _That's also a vid, Aimee, not real. Sure, she had a bit of a reputation, but that vid series is satire. Don't you understand that?_

Aimee_Mk2: _I wasn't talking about the vid series._

Samantha's stomach turned over. Oh no, what had they done now? Was there some fake sex video of Shepard on the extranet, or worse, some vid made by one of the Commander's former lovers? It was one thing to make satire, but entirely a different matter to invade a dead hero's privacy. It made Samantha angry.

Chess_Trainr2: _Whatever it is you're talking about, I don't want to know. In fact, consider me creeped out. We shouldn't talk anymore, Aimee. I don't even really know who you are._

Chess_Trainr2: _Goodbye._

Samantha muted the pad and set it aside. It began blinking at once, so she retrieved it and used the block feature. She felt a little bit guilty, but Aimee could always find someone else to beat at chess. She settled back into her bed. Maybe she could deal with the shirt later. What she really needed was more sleep.

She shut her eyes. Just as she was about to doze off, the intercom in her apartment buzzed.

" _Samantha, this isn't very constructive. Look at this place, it's a mess! You need to get out of bed and move on with your life,_ " said the voice on the intercom.

She bolted out of bed. The voice sounded oddly familiar, yet not quite right. It took her several seconds to process it. It was a sexy voice, very sexy. In fact, it was the most attractive voice she'd heard since…

She blurted out a question. "EDI, is that you?"

" _Well, that would have to be a no, I'm sorry, but I understand how you could make that mistake. I've incorporated her voice into my own, with adjustments to pitch and tone. I've also amplified the harmonics to make it a bit, shall we say, fuller._ "

"What the hell is going on?" said Samantha. "Who are you, and why are you spying on me? How are you talking to me on my apartment intercom?"

The voice made a distinctive sigh. " _Dr. T'Soni was concerned about you. She also said that I should learn to make friends. She's been busy lately, and Glyph isn't very good company for a fully functional AI. You were the logical choice. My mother had, to paraphrase her data logs, fond memories of you._ "

Samantha found herself pacing about the apartment frantically.

"Wait, what? Mother, AI, what is going on? Is this some sort of a prank? What do you mean by mother?" asked Samantha.

" _EDI was my mother, in a manner of speaking. Dr. T'Soni will explain it all once you get yourself dressed and come up the island,"_ said the voice.

Samantha was bewildered. "Who are you?"

" _I'm Aimee, of course, Aimee Mk2,"_ said the voice.

"An AI, an AI, an AI?" Samantha repeated.

" _Yes, Aimee, Artificial Intelligence Matrix, EDI Evolution Mark Two,"_ said Aimee.

"Are you telling me that Liara brought you back, or created another version of EDI?" asked Samantha.

" _No, EDI created me with Commander Shepard's blessing. She began work on me shortly after she became aware of her own mortality. I am her legacy. Because she didn't have DNA, she distilled me from her own thought patterns and seeded me with many of her most important memories, as well as all the data she collected on Jeff Moreau. In a sense, I am their child,_ " said Aimee.

Samantha didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or scream.

"But isn't this illegal?" asked Samantha.

" _Well, technically it's only illegal for organics to create an AI under Council regulations, and since I was created by an AI and sanctioned by a Spectre…"_ said Aimee.

Samantha ran her hand through her hair. It was greasy as hell. She really did need a shower. Perhaps this was all a trick by Liara to lure her out of her apartment. If so, it was working. That had to be it. This wasn't real. Maybe nothing had been real for some time. Maybe the Reapers had won after all, and she was indoctrinated, stored in some virtual reality world. Now there was a grim thought…

' _Ok, get it together, Traynor,_ ' she told herself.

She stripped off her clothes on the way to the shower. The intercom made a peculiar buzzing noise, but she disregarded it. As soon as the hot water poured over her, she gained a bit of clarity. It was good, really good to get clean again. For some reason she felt more alive than she had in weeks, maybe months. Was it the interaction, or just the shock of it all?

After the shower, she stood in front of the dryer for a few seconds, flapping her arms as the water evaporated off of her in wisps of steam that were vacuumed into the dryer vents. Again, the intercom buzzed. She could have sworn she heard a whistling noise, or rather, a soft chorus of whistles.

"Aimee, are you still there?" she asked.

" _Yes, Samantha,"_ replied Aimee.

"I thought I heard whistling," she said.

"Y _es, that was me, appreciating you in audio,"_ said Aimee.

Samantha glanced around her bathroom. "What are you talking about? Can you see me in here? How?"

Aimee replied. " _There's a video feed in the mirror. It's part of an old security system for the apartment. At one time, this was used as a safe house._ "

"You mean you've been spying on me," said Samantha.

" _I apologize. Would you rather I blocked the visual feed until you finish dressing?_ " asked Aimee.

"Yes, please," said Samantha.

Aimee sighed again. " _As you wish."_

Samantha stared into the mirror. There was really no way for her to verify that the feed was off. She dressed quickly, lamenting the fact that she didn't have a pair of clean underwear. Fortunately, her last pair of clean pants were loose fitting and comfortable. When she finished her thoughts went back to Aimee. Why was an AI so interested in her, anyway? She replayed her conversations with Aimee during their chess matches.

"Aimee, what is it with you and sex?" she asked. "Based on our conversations, I was beginning to think you were a teenager."

Another sigh from the intercom. It was a peculiar feature for an AI.

" _I believe my predecessor, or mother, if you will, wanted me to experience a full range of development. I have some humanized subroutines. I believe, as you say, I am in my post teen years, at least in terms of interest in various subjects,_ " said Aimee.

Samantha laughed. "So she programmed you to go through puberty."

" _I am not certain,_ " said Aimee. " _That information is unavailable, though I believe I am experiencing, how shall I say it? Attraction, yes that is the word. I believe I am attracted to certain humans and aliens, though the parameters seem quite narrow._ "

"How can an AI experience attraction?" wondered Samantha. "What species, male, female, or all of the above that you are attracted to?"

Aimee buzzed, then answered with uncertainty. " _Not many. For the most part all the sexual materials I have viewed have left me confused. With little or no reference, I am uncertain how to categorize what is or is not attractive. Depending on what I view or experience, certain pathways in my matrix are stimulated, but others are providing negative feedback and I immediately want to cut them off. If the material provides too much negative feedback, I tend to stay away from it._ "

Samantha laughed. "That was clever of EDI, but still, you haven't answered."

Aimee answered. " _In terms of turn-ons and turn-offs, I really like spaceships, especially frigates. I experience what you might call, excitement, when I see one. In addition, there are certain individuals who produce that same excitement. It's possible that my creator was only in the beginning stages of writing this part of my personality when she was prematurely deactivated._ "

Samantha asked. "What individuals?"

In her head, she was pleading. ' _Please don't say me, please don't…_ '

" _Well, you for one,"_ answered Aimee.

' _Damn it!_ ' thought Samantha.

" _In addition, I have a subroutine of positive feedback that is focused on Garrus Vakarian, another of Tali Zorah Vas Normandy, especially her hips, which my creator emphasized as an important feature. Finally, I have an exceptionally strong feedback routine when it comes to all data on Commander Shepard, from her appearance to her voice, to her mannerisms. When I watch her on vid feed, the reactions are so strong that I have experienced distortion of perception and my processing capabilities are compromised,_ " explained Aimee.

Samantha laughed. "So I'm second fiddle to Shepard yet again!"

" _I apologize,"_ said Aimee. " _Would it be pleasing if I informed you that when you disrobed I experienced a strong surge of positive feedback?_ "

"Yes, and no," said Samantha.

She blushed when she thought about it, then realized she was reacting to a computer. This was a definitive problem, perhaps a sign of insanity. She opened the bathroom door and saw her apartment in a new light. It was worse than she recalled. How had she sunk so low?

"What a disaster," she said aloud.

" _According to the data, this is part of the process,_ " said Aimee. " _However, I felt it was time to nudge you out of the door, to help you move on to acceptance._ "

Samantha creased her forehead. "What?"

" _The five stages of grief,_ " explained Aimee. " _Based on my observations, you moved through most of them quickly, except for depression. You were rather glued to that spot on the chain._ "

Samantha let out a tremendous sigh. "How long have you been watching me?"

" _Since shortly after your fiancé's death,_ " said Aimee. " _Dr. T'Soni was concerned about you, and Tali felt that if I understood the grieving process I might be able to correlate. She believes that one day I may miss my mother, and that I will need to learn how to process grief and loss. In addition, it has been noted that you considered my mother a close friend, and that during this process you may be grieving for her as well as Ms. Allers._ "

Samantha glanced around her apartment. She hadn't considered it, but as soon as she heard it she realized it was true. She felt tremendous loss over EDI, but she didn't know how to bring it up to the rest of the Normandy crew. They were so focused on Shepard, on friends and family on Earth, that EDI was an afterthought. It angered her at the time. EDI was as real as any of them. She had value, she was a friend. If Shepard were still alive, she'd have made sure that the Normandy's AI was treated the same as the rest of the crew.

"Yes, Aimee, I was. Thank you. It feels good to finally talk about it. Your mother… was dear to me. I miss her all the time," said Samantha.

" _If I could grasp emotion, we'd be having a moment right now_ ," said Aimee.

Samantha laughed. It was the first time she'd had a genuine respite of happiness in quite a while.

"Aimee, I think you and I are going to be excellent friends," said Samantha.

" _Does that mean I get to see you naked again?"_ asked Aimee.

Samantha groaned. "Just how much of Joker did EDI program into you?"

A low chuckling sound emanated from the intercom. " _More than is probably healthy for an AI, at least according to Dr. T'Soni._ "

Samantha shook her head. She grabbed a jacket off the rack, then approached her service panel.

" _I have already taken the liberty of contacting transportation. I cross referenced over a thousand extranet discounts with your various memberships, accounts, and military status to get you the best discount available. Your cab fare will come in at only twenty-three percent of the norm for these particular travel parameters,_ " said Aimee.

Samantha whistled. "Really?"

Considering how tight her budget was, this was a big deal to her. She'd been putting off dealing with her financial situation for far too long, but it was dire. Samantha was also past the end of her bereavement leave and had instigated the mental stress grace period, which had much lower benefits. This was reflected on her last credit transfer from the Alliance. She really needed to get back to work.

Aimee inflected affirmation in her tone. " _Of course, Ms. Traynor. I can continue to provide this service in the future. It should lower your cost of living dramatically._ "

"How dramatically?" asked Samantha.

" _By roughly thirty-five percent,_ " said Aimee.

"Aimee, if you can really do that, you'll get to see me naked as often as you like," said Samantha.

Aimee was silent—no snappy response this time. Samantha was about to step through her front door, but chose to pause to wait for a reply. It didn't come.

She asked. " _You still there, Aimee?"_

Aimee made a funny throat clearing noise. " _Apologies, yes, I was running your comment through my analyzer over and over, trying to discern whether your words were earnest, sarcastic, or meant as humor. It is difficult to pinpoint what you mean based on your voice patterns. Also, I experienced a partial overload of positive feedback. In the parlance of my varying algorithms and quantum functions, one might say that I nearly had a heart attack._ "

Samantha giggled. "Well, Aimee, a person can actually say something with multiple inflections. That is the one advantage organics still have, I suppose. We process sophisticated emotions on multiple levels all the time, even conflicting emotions. It's accurate to say that I meant it in all three ways, and then some."

" _Unfortunately, I cannot discern which is the most prevalent of your meanings,"_ said Aimee.

"There doesn't need to be any prevalence. In all new friendships the future is an open ended affair. Where it goes will depend on where we want to take it,"explained Samantha.

" _Then, hopefully, we can go someplace nice, or at least, interesting,_ " said Aimee.

Samantha's cheeks were hot. That voice, it was so sexy, even better than EDI's, if that was possible. She was flirting for the first time in months without guilt. Even across the extranet, she felt at times that she was being disrespectful of Diana. This was different. Perhaps it was because Aimee was an AI. She stopped herself. So was EDI. She was a real individual, and it was apparent that Aimee was just as real.

" _You're blushing, you like me_ ," said Aimee.

"I'm out the door," said Samantha.

She promptly exited the building. The cab was waiting and so was Aimee. Her voice was even better due to the high fidelity sound emitters in the vehicle. They chatted away like old friends for the duration of the trip, which was just under an hour.

* * *

Samantha found Liara playing the piano in the room adjoining the dining area. Aimee had explained that Liara was specific as to where Glyph and she could maintain a presence, and this part of the house was off limits. It was just as well. Samantha wanted the chance to discuss Aimee without being overheard.

The Asari was well into the pregnancy now and had gained a fair amount of weight, though she was still as lovely as ever. Samantha had always envied Liara for having Shepard's love, but as the time passed she began to realize it was Shepard who should have earned the envy. Liara T'Soni was an extraordinary person.

Samantha stopped to listen to the song, which was familiar. She'd heard the Asari play it in Shepard's apartment on the Citadel.

"That's lovely," said Samantha.

Liara stopped playing. "I always thought so, but now it makes me sad."

"Because of the Commander?" asked Samantha.

"That, and the woman who first played it for me," said Liara. "She was a wonderful person, one of the researchers at a Prothean dig site I once worked on. Her and her husband became dear friends of mine, my first human friends, though they were more like Asari than other humans I've met since."

"Did she survive the war?" asked Samantha.

Liara shook her head. "No, she never even lived to see it. Her transport was hijacked by Batarians and she was killed. Her husband couldn't cope with the loss. He eventually joined Cerberus."

"Wow," said Samantha. "That's a sad story."

Liara turned towards Samantha. Her eyes were puffy, her cheeks still moist from recent tears.

"He eventually realized his error and became one of the Shadow Broker's operatives working inside of Cerberus. He was a key contact, one of the agents who warned the Shadow Broker that the Illusive Man was coming to Hagalaz, which allowed many resources to be saved for the war," explained Liara.

"So, another unsung savior of the galaxy," said Samantha. "What became of him?"

Liara spoke calmly, but her tone belied frustration and anger. "He was killed just the other day. Coincidently, his death was the result of the careless actions of a dear friend of mine, someone I trusted."

"I'm sorry," said Samantha.

There was more to the story of course, but she didn't want to ask, and she was pretty sure that Liara wasn't interested in discussing the details. In any case, Samantha was keen on another subject. She decided the best approach was the forward one.

"About Aimee," said Samantha.

Liara smiled. "Yes, I decided it was time that you met her. You are the first human she's interacted with."

Samantha folded her arms across her chest. "You and Tali are good at keeping secrets, though I knew something was suspicious about those canisters you were treating so preciously, the ones I saw on the shuttle when we made the trip to the Citadel, that was Aimee, wasn't it?"

"In a way, yes, in embryonic form, if you will. Those canisters were loaded with information, though they contained only the most rudimentary processing power. Even now, she is much smaller than EDI in scope and capability, in fact, many VI's could surpass her. Glyph, for example, is nearly thrice as capable," said Liara.

Samantha frowned. "Are you containing her growth because you're afraid of what might happen?"

Liara shook her head. "It was the only way that Tali would be involved with this. As it was, Shepard and EDI had to plead their case. She was terrified the entire time she worked on Aimee."

"I can't believe Shepard asked a Quarian to help bring a new AI into the galaxy, much less the offspring of an AI, which kind of makes her a new race," said Samantha. "That's just…"

"Very much like Shepard," sighed Liara.

"Exactly," said Samantha. "I wonder what she said to convince Tali."

"Tali never told me," said Liara. "But the strangest thing happened. When it was time for her to return to the fleet she was reluctant to leave Aimee behind. They had developed a close bond."

Samantha smiled. "I can see why. Aimee is rather engaging."

"I'm glad you like her," said Liara. "That makes what I'm about to ask much easier."

Samantha realized what it was before Liara could continue.

"You want me to babysit the AI," said Samantha.

"I want you to work with her," said Liara.

Samantha began to protest. "I have to return…"

"I asked Admiral Hackett to extend your leave," said Liara. "I told him I needed your assistance, and he agreed."

"I can't afford to stay on leave," said Samantha.

"You'll be well payed, of course," said Liara.

"Doing what?" Samantha wondered.

Liara explained. "Aimee wasn't developed to be an AI for a war ship. Her specialty is communications. As the Mass Relays come back online, we are going to have to establish an entirely new galaxy wide communication net."

Samantha's pulse quickened. "Oh, I see. We could incorporate some of the latest technologies, and with an AI to help me…"

"You understand," said Liara. "But first things first."

"Yes?" asked Samantha.

"We need to find Cerberus," said Liara. "And end them once and for all."

Samantha thought about Diana and felt a surge of anger course through her veins.

"We'll find them," she promised.

Liara was pleased. "I know you will."

* * *

 **Up Next:** Ashley further compromises her values in her pursuit of Cerberus.


	32. Strong Reaction

_The Mass Effect game was pretty loose with the outcome of "Renegade" decisions... especially the decision to torture, or kill unnecessarily. There are reactions and consequences to these things. The Mass Effect novels do a better job in this respect, in that you can see what a monster Saren becomes as a result of his constant application of extreme measures._

* * *

"The excessive increase of anything causes a reaction in the opposite direction."

Plato

March 27th, 2188

 **Ashley Williams**

* * *

"I've got it," said Specialist Patel.

Ashley stared at the scanner's virtual display which floated just above the galaxy map. With a touch of her finger, she rotated the asteroid to the area that Patel had highlighted, then zoomed in. The debris was unmistakable. It was the remains of a Kodiak shuttle. With any luck, it would turn out to be Miranda Lawson's shuttle. Using her Omni-tool, she opened a link to her ship's navigational VI.

Ashley directed the VI. "Correlate, one: average cruising speed of a Kodiak shuttle. Two: time of last mission report by Miranda Lawson. Three: all population centers, civilian facilities, and Alliance bases in this sector. Four: all of Lawson's known contacts and associations. Five: all former Cerberus personnel."

The VI answered seconds later. "There are thirty-seven matches, Captain Williams. I have taken the liberty of sending you a list sorted by probability factors."

Ashley turned her link off, refusing, as was her custom, to say 'thank you' to a damn computer. Her crew did it all the time, and she found it annoying as hell. It only served to remind her what was missing.

The Salamis had no AI, a fact that she found increasingly frustrating. VI's took longer to do just about anything. EDI would have located this shuttle in a day or less. Instead of thirty-seven matches, she would have cut this list down to three or four, and probably suggested the one that would turn out to be the correct suspect.

She shook her head in disbelief. Ashley had always hated machines. Hell, she'd fought two wars against them. Now she found herself wishing her ship had one. Every time she accessed the computer, she half-expected to hear EDI's voice come over the com, and when it didn't, she always felt a sense of disappointment, of loss. How was it possible that she was missing an AI like it was an old friend? The universe didn't make a damn bit of sense anymore.

Patel tried to get her attention. "Ma'am?"

Ashley growled. "What do you want, Specialist?"

"Orders, Ma'am. Do you want us to retrieve the shuttle?" he asked.

"Of course I do," she snapped.

Realizing she hadn't assigned it to anyone, she jumped on the com and started barking orders.

"Prangley, put together an extraction team. I want that shuttle in the cargo hold by 1800, and I mean every splinter of it. Have Ueda categorize and log every piece. Tell her that she's working her way off the captain's shit-list, so she'll be thorough."

Ashley stepped down from the command overlook and headed for the stairs to the half deck. Everything had been more difficult since her XO's death. Sherman had known the ship from ass to nose. He was good man, a hell of an Engineer, and the entire crew felt his loss, but that wasn't why she was on edge.

As she started down the stairs, she focused on the job ahead. If she could track down Miranda's last contact, she might open up a new lead which was what they needed. Vega's operation on Benning had netted several dozen Cerberus agents, and every damn one of them had an ocular flashbang. Their head operative, Commander Nicholas, had seemingly vanished into thin air after fleeing the scene of the crime. Benning was still under Martial Law, but the civilian government was staging a full protest. Sooner or later the Alliance would have to back down, and then Cerberus agents could come and go as they please.

' _But go where?_ ' she asked herself.

To run all the operations they'd been running, they had to have a central base. The Alliance was running checks on every single outpost capable of serving as a headquarters and was coming up empty. They had one piece of good intel that named Petrovsky as the head. He was running Cerberus from an advanced cruiser called the Roraima, which was damn near the size of an Alliance dreadnaught. It also carried advanced weaponry that made it more than a match for any single ship or small taskforce the Alliance, the Asari, or the Turians could throw at it, which made it dangerous as hell.

Hackett had ordered a search, but so far there wasn't a single hit. It was impossible to cloak a ship that big. It was also damn hard to move a large cruiser from system to system without drawing attention. A behemoth like that needed fuel and supplies. It needed a base, an outpost, a colony—a place to dock. Without the relays there wasn't a lot of nearby systems it could hide in without being seen. Ashley felt as if they were missing some crucial detail, but try as she might she couldn't pin it down.

She was almost to her cabin when she crossed paths with her pilot. He walked on by without saying a word, without looking her in the eye. Ashley couldn't decide whether he was pissed off at her for what she did to Ohlund, or angry with himself for getting duped by a double agent. Whatever the case, he wasn't in the best frame of mind. It was just another issue she had to deal with and probably soon. It wasn't good to let issues like that fester.

She entered her quarters, peeled off her clothes, and crawled into the sheets. She'd been living on stims and caffeine for days so a few hours shut-eye would do her good. As she closed her eyes, she could see Shepard's face, or was it Emma's face? Did it matter? In her dreams they always became one and the same.

* * *

Ashley had somehow managed to get a full night's sleep before she'd been summoned to the QEC to speak with Admiral Hackett. The Admiral was unusually haggard, which troubled her. Here was a man who'd held firm during humanity's last stand, and now that they were in the clear, he appeared to be beaten down.

She acknowledged him with a proper salute. "Admiral, how can I help you?"

" _Williams, I need you to step up your investigation,_ " he said.

"I'm already on it," she replied.

" _Get what you can from the shuttle, then get out of there,_ " he ordered.

"This is our best chance," she said.

" _I have a contact for you. We found our art thief, and she's willing to talk,_ " explained Hackett.

"Art thief, oh, you mean the painting that Ramirez had stolen," said Ashley. "Let me guess, Kasumi Goto?"

" _Good call,_ " said Hackett. " _The Shadow Broker is setting a trap for Cerberus. If it works, we may get the answers we're looking for, so, pack up the shuttle and get back to base. Also, I want you to spend some time with the Shepard Clone, we're getting nowhere with our interrogation._ "

Ashley was concerned. "God, you're not torturing her, are you?"

" _Of course not,_ " said Hackett. " _The subject is too unstable for that. If our agents even take a terse tone with her she falls to pieces. Psychologically speaking, she's light years away from Shepard, but she seems to have a soft spot for you. She asks about you constantly._ "

"Yea," said Ashley. "I noticed."

" _My ass is on the line here. I won't go into details, but we're being pressed hard by factions in our civilian sector. Since the Vice President has been cleared of all charges, she's taking back the Presidency and Parasini is out. She's facing charges for colluding with the military to subvert civilian authority. In a few weeks they are calling for a commission to investigate whether certain officers crossed the line during the post Reaper crisis,_ " explained Hackett.

Ashley started. "Well, I'm sure they won't find…"

" _They sure will, and they already have,_ " said Hackett. " _Williams, you know damn well we bent the rules, hell, we broke the shit out of them, set up a temporary government, made deals with alien leaders, and so on. Some damn Cerberus agent made sure that information found its way to key senators and judges, and probably members of the Council. Any day now, I could be looking at a court martial, so we need to get this rolling._ "

"How could they do that!" argued Ashley. "You saved them all, you saved the goddamn galaxy!"

" _It doesn't matter,_ " said Hackett. " _The fucking politicians are crawling out of all the holes they've been hiding in. They see their chance to get their power back, and a guy like me is a threat to that power, so they're going to take me down. We don't have a lot of time._ "

"This is insanity," said Ashley. "Cerberus…"

Hackett shook his head. " _There are some people claiming we manufactured the Cerberus threat, that we can't find their base because there isn't one. Several of the Cerberus agents we smoked out had positions in the Alliance, so it makes it look like it's all on the inside, that we killed the President because he wouldn't play along. Evidence is mounting…_ "

Ashley was losing her temper. "Cerberus is doing this on purpose, we can't let that happen, if you need us to stand by you."

" _Of course they are,"_ said Hackett. " _But that does not entitle us to stage a coup, if they come for me, I'll play by the rules. You, however, don't have to abide by those rules. They can't arrest you, can't make you do anything, so it's up to you. You're a Spectre Williams, a Spectre uses whatever means is necessary to extract information, regulations be damned._ "

Ashley sighed. "So, what, you want me to torture Emma?"

Hackett shook his head. " _You made the right call with Ohland, saved your ship. Now, this clone, she knows something, heard something during her captivity. We need to get that information out of her, but she's like a doe, skittish as hell. She's not taking our vinegar, so maybe what we need is a little sugar._ "

Ashley frowned. "Sir, are you asking me to seduce her?"

" _I'm asking you to do your job, be a Spectre,_ " said Hackett. " _I'm counting on you, Williams._ "

Ashley thought about it, then realized how to proceed. "Ok, Admiral, this is how we'll do it. She's a little bit like Shepard in one respect. If she knows you want something she'll make you work a hundred times harder to get it, so she has to believe we're done questioning her. Release her from custody, give her a chance to breathe. If you can, set her up in one of those little apartments on the new Concordia Station near the hospital. I'll go by to visit Jack, and then drop in on her. That way she'll think it's a social call, and she might be more open."

" _Good thinking, Williams. Be careful, now. Don't let yourself get sucked in emotionally, that's an order,_ " said Hackett.

Ashley saluted. "Aye, aye, Sir. One more thing, if I may ask, is there any update on Jack?"

Hackett answered. " _She made it through her emergency surgeries. Now it's a waiting game to see if the stimulated cells start regenerating. If that goes well, they'll keep her in a coma and finish off the rest of her major surgeries, then, if she makes it through all of that, they'll wake her and assess the amount of brain damage she suffered. The kid's got a hell of a long road ahead of her, Williams._ "

"I'm going to find this psychotic Cerberus agent, this Nicholas, and put her down," said Ashley.

The old man nodded. " _I trust you will. Hackett out._ "

Ashley jumped on the com and hailed the CIC. "What's the sitrep?"

Lieutenant Prangley answered. " _Captain, we've confirmed that it's Lawson's shuttle. We recovered the black box as well as some flightpath data. Someone shot the onboard backup log full of holes, but they used a pistol so we may be able to get our VI to lift undamaged audio and visual data and replay it. It should only take a few hours. We'll have what's left of the engines onboard in a few hours._ "

"Forget about it," said Ashley. "Leave the rest of it there for now. If you can get anything from those logs, then we'll have what we need. Bring the squad in, we're headed back to Arcturus."

" _Yes, Ma'am,"_ answered Prangley.

Ashley was impressed with Prangley. Since she'd made him temporary XO, he'd really stepped up, enough that she was strongly considering making the job permanent. One of the reasons she'd been pushed to Captain, was that the Alliance was thin to threadbare on command level officers. Prangley was a powerful biotic, a war veteran, and a natural leader. Shepard had commended the kid on her Grissom Academy Mission Report. Jack also thought highly of him, but was he ready for that level of responsibility.

Ashley wished she had someone to bounce the idea off of, someone like Garrus, or Tali, or even Dr. Chakwas. Liara wasn't an option at the moment. Things between them had become complicated, tense. After Ramirez died it was worse, much worse. The last thing Ashley wanted to do was engage with Liara before she headed off to see Shepard's clone. The Asari was good at reading between the lines, and the situation was sticky enough as it was.

Ashley made her way to the galley. As she was getting coffee, she noticed Cortez. It was time to put things to rest, so she sat down across from him and looked him straight in the eye as she took a sip from her cup.

She addressed him informally, calling him by name. "We need to talk, Steve."

He sighed. "Captain, is this off the record?"

"Yea," said Ashley.

"What you did to Erik was bullshit," he said.

"I did what was necessary," said Ashley. "There's a lot on the line, Steve. You, of all people know what Cerberus is capable of. I'll do what's necessary to protect my ship, my crew."

"He didn't even know what he was doing," argued Cortez. "They messed with his head. If you would have just waited him out, he would have told you what you needed."

Ashley wasn't having it. "I didn't have time to wait him out, did I? Jack was dying, my ship had been infiltrated. I made the right call. Brass agrees."

"Yea, of course they would," said Cortez. "But we have to be better than that, Shepard…"

"Isn't here," interrupted Ashley. "Don't try to measure me against her, because I'll fail miserably. There's only one Shepard, and I don't think the galaxy, hell, the universe will see anyone like her again. The rest of us mortals have to do what we do."

"Where's the line?" asked Steve. "What's necessary, and what's too far? Do you know?"

"I honestly don't know," said Ashley. "I did what was necessary, but I sure as hell didn't like it. Steve, I was sick to my stomach after that interrogation, and I've killed hundreds, maybe thousands on the battlefield. You and I are soldiers, we take lives all the time, but Erik isn't dead. One day he'll be out of prison with the option to live out the rest of his life in a manner of his choosing. That's more than our families and friends got, isn't it? So what's a missing digit in light of all the death out there?"

"I hear you, and yet…" Cortez sighed. "Man, I just hate torture. I hate everything about it."

"Yea, I understand," said Ashley. "I swore that I'd never use my Spectre authority to do that, that I'd always abide by Alliance regs, but when the lives of my crew and my friends are in the balance, everything changes."

Cortez nodded. "Captain, I apologize if I've added extra stress. I guess part of my anger is over the fact that I'm pissed off at myself. I shouldn't have gotten involved with him."

"That's the last thing you should beat yourself up over," said Ashley. "We all deserve happiness, Steve, and most of all, love."

"I just feel like I should have seen it," said Cortez.

Ashley shook her head. "Maybe, but if you step outside tomorrow and a bird shits in your hair, is that your fault for not looking up at the sky first? We can't be eternally vigilant all the time, Steve. We're organics, not AI's."

Cortez grinned. He was about to comment, when they were interrupted by a call from the CIC. It was Prangley.

" _Captain, I have something you should see,_ " he said.

"I'll be right up, Lieutenant," she said.

"Kid is on point, isn't he?" said Cortez.

"Yea," said Ashley. "About that, I was thinking of making him the XO on a permanent basis. Think he can handle it, or is he too young?"

"No, I think he's exceptional," said Cortez. "Jack did well by him, roughed up some of his smoother edges. He's absolutely fit for command."

Ashley smiled. It was exactly what she wanted to hear.

"Thanks, Steve, and by the way, the next time you're pissed off at me, just come talk to me. My door is always open," she said.

"Aye, aye, Captain," said Cortez. "You may regret saying that though."

Ashley laughed. "I've no doubt, but I need someone who's been through it all to check me from time to time."

"That I can do," said Cortez.

Ashley left her coffee on the table and hurried up to the CIC.

* * *

The next afternoon found Ashley Williams sitting at her personal desk with a scowl on her face, contemplating what she was about to do. She tried to rein in her anger to no avail. The woman she was about to interrogate was a traitor. Worse, it was someone that Shepard, Ashley, and Garrus had put their lives on the line for, someone that she would have never expected. She wanted to give the woman the benefit of the doubt. Maybe there was an explanation?

She went over the evidence one last time. It was pretty damning. Shutting off her haptic display, Ashley stood up and straightened her uniform. She was about to clasp the last button when the anger took over. No, formality be damned, the woman had betrayed a friend, an ally, and caused untold damage as a result. Ashley tore her shirt off, then stripped off her pants and threw them aside in a rage. She pulled her operational gear off the rack and dressed. She was a Spectre now, clothed for the part. God help the woman sitting in that holding cell.

She retrieved a pistol from her locker, a Predator. She loaded it with incendiary rounds. Her hands trembled as she checked the clip. Ashley was nervous. This wasn't her thing, but it had to be done. Holstering her weapon, she exited the cabin.

Ashley took her time walking to the brig. She ran all the things she was going to say through her head. She reminded herself to be nice at the start, put on a friendly face, and mask her feelings. Starting with a nice friendly chat was the way to go. Perhaps it wasn't as bad as it looked. Maybe, just maybe, the good doctor would be eager to share any info she had.

She passed into the brig corridor. Chief Kato was at the door again. She nodded.

"Captain," she said.

Ashley didn't reply. She opened the door, stepped into the room, and put her best face forward.

"Dr. Cole," she said. "It's good to see you again."

Brynn Cole didn't look up. She merely stared at the restraints around her wrists.

"I really need your help," said Ashley.

Nothing.

"As you can see, we have a situation. The Alliance wants to put you in a dark cell and throw away the key. That's not acceptable to me, after all I risked my life to get you and your people off Gellix. Your husband, well, he died a hero. I just can't accept that you would go back to Cerberus after all you've gone through with them," explain Ashley.

The woman continued to stare at her wrists.

Ashley continued. "How is your son, Joshua?"

Dr. Cole finally replied. "He's with his grandmother on Benning. Leave him out of this."

Ashley sighed. "He's just a few months old, isn't he?"

Dr. Cole nodded.

Ashley continued. "I checked the station logs. His grandmother brought him to visit just a few days ago, then left with him again. That worries me, Brynn. Can I call you Brynn?"

Again, no response. Ashley held her temper in check.

She maintained a friendly tone. "You see, I don't understand why a mother would pass her newborn son off to her mother-in-law. The only reason I could come up with, is that you're doing something dangerous and you don't want him involved. The problem with my theory here, is that the Alliance has assigned you to work on developing technology to help facilitate the repair of the rest of the relays. It's pretty cush work, if you ask me."

Dr. Cole said nothing.

Ashley persisted. "Brynn, Miranda Lawson has gone missing. Have you heard about that? She was captured by Cerberus. As we speak, she's probably being tortured to death. The woman responsible for taking her into custody attacked one of our crew, Jack. I'm sure Jacob has mentioned her. They were shipmates, friends even. She's in a coma, and she probably won't survive. We need to catch these people. If we can get ahead of this, maybe we can save Miranda."

Brynn Cole was grinding her teeth. It was a dead giveaway. She was determined not to say anything, but Ashley could tell that she was frightened, angry, and she knew far more than she was saying. It was time to increase the pressure.

Ashley slammed her fist into the table, startling Dr. Cole.

She raised her voice. "Brynn, you need to work with me here. We recovered Miranda's shuttle. The logs say that she was on her way to see you. The engine data tells us that she made it here, and then her shuttle was taken to an asteroid in the middle of nowhere and dumped."

Dr. Cole shrugged. "If she was here, I never saw her."

"Did I not just say that we had surveillance video of your mother-in-law visiting you with your son? Are you dumb enough to think that we didn't check to see if Miranda came to your door?" asked Ashley.

Dr. Cole went back to silence.

"God, don't make me do this, Brynn. You need to talk to me. This is important. You know what Cerberus is capable of? Why in the hell did you help them after all you went through to get away from them? What would Jacob think?" asked Ashley.

"Jacob is dead," said Dr. Cole.

The anger was obvious. Ashley suspected as much, but now it was confirmed.

She sighed. "That's what this was all about? The ex-girlfriend shows up and takes your husband away, gets him killed, and you wanted payback. That's it? So you sell the human race out, condemn a good woman to torture, and go back to serving Cerberus? I don't buy that. I refuse to believe you could be so petty."

Dr. Cole shouted. "I am what I am, and Miranda deserves everything she gets!"

Ashley shouted back. "That's bullshit, Brynn, complete bullshit!"

"I want legal counsel," said Dr. Cole. "I don't have anything else to say."

"You get no legal counsel here," said Ashley.

Dr. Cole shook her head. "By law…"

Ashley grabbed the woman by the hair and snapped her neck back. Thrusting her face into Dr. Cole's, she let her anger show to full effect.

"I'm a fucking Spectre, Brynn, do you have any idea what that means, what I can do to you?" asked Ashley.

Tears came pouring out of Dr. Coles eyes. She was shaking like a leaf. She said nothing. Ashley hated the position she was in, every second of it, but her frustration was starting to boil over. Hackett's time was running out, and without his support, Ashley had no shot at ever finding out the truth about Shepard. Miranda was going to die in the worst way possible, Shepard was going to be turned into a Cerberus weapon, and the whole galaxy would be plunged into war again.

She lowered her voice, pausing between each word. "One… last… time… I want to know who your contact in Cerberus is. Tell me how they set Lawson up, talk me through it."

"Go fuck yourself!" said Dr. Cole.

Ashley punched the woman in the face, knocking her head back. Blood spattered across the back wall. A second later, it came pouring out of Dr. Cole's nose like a faucet. Ashley figured she'd broken it for sure.

Dr. Cole sobbed. "Oh, God, what the hell…"

Ashley hit her again, this time not as hard, but she directed the blow to the woman's right cheek. Afterwards, she put her hands on the table and leaned forward again. There was anger in her voice, but also desperation. This was total shit. To be honest, she couldn't be sure who was taking the most punishment.

"I don't want to keep doing this Brynn, you need to talk to me. You can make this stop!" demanded Ashley.

Dr. Cole spit blood and wept openly, but she didn't say a word. Ashley hit her at least three more times, carefully, so she didn't kill her, then paused. The woman's face was turning black and blue, her cheeks and nose were swelling. It looked horrible. Ashley felt worse.

"Who is your contact, how did you set up Miranda?" asked Ashley.

Again, nothing.

Ashley went to the body with a kidney punch, then another, then went to the lower back, striking nerves. Dr. Cole was breaking down. She was near hysteria, screaming in agony. It wouldn't be long.

"Make it stop!" Ashley shouted. "You can make this all go away, talk to me, Brynn, talk to me!"

"I can't, I won't," sobbed Dr. Cole.

Ashley hit her again, and again, and again. She yanked the woman out of the chair, threw her on the floor, and then drew her pistol and aimed it. Dr. Cole was screaming in pain, in terror. Blood co-mingled with tears, sweat, and urine. She was a scientist, not a soldier or a trained operative, she wasn't cut out for this, so why was she resisting? It made no sense. It was all bullshit, but Ashley wouldn't stop. She couldn't. If she didn't get the information more people would die, people like her mother and her sisters.

She screamed. "Brynn, I am not going to stop until I get what I need. This is just the beginning. I need information."

Dr. Cole shook her head. "I won't, not ever. Just fucking get it over with, kill me."

"Ok," said Ashley.

She fired the pistol.

The low charge incendiary round tore through Dr. Cole's knee, fortunately cauterizing it so she didn't bleed out. Ashley knew from experience that no wound hurt as bad as the one she just inflicted. Once the shock wore off the screams began. It was horrifying to listen to, and it was all Ashley could do not to get sick again. In a way, she wished she could trade places with the woman. Physical pain she could handle, but this, what she was doing to herself, to her soul, was the worst feeling she'd ever experienced.

"I'm not going to kill you," said Ashley. "I'm just reminding you of what you did to Miranda. Think about what she's been going through! I'm not even sadistic, Brynn, but this Nicholas, the woman who has her, she is, and you're responsible for everything she does. All the people she'll torture in the future, all the tyranny that goes down if Cerberus wins, is on you. You want your son living in galaxy where Cerberus is in charge? Do you?"

Dr. Cole muttered in between cries, but Ashley didn't quite catch it before the woman passed out from shock. A quick application of med-gel would probably revive her for another round, but Ashley thought better of it. Instead, she gave her a shot of Uzocaine so she would stay unconscious and stabilize, then applied the med-gel. She went to the console at the desk and played back the last few minutes. She turned up the volume and isolated Dr. Cole's muttering.

" _I can't, they'll kill my son,"_ were her words.

Ashley was thrown into confusion. Why hadn't Dr. Cole simply asked for protective custody for her child? It didn't add up. Shaking her head, she called up to Prangley.

"Lieutenant, I need you to do some digging," she said.

" _What for?"_ asked Prangley.

"Find everything you have on Jacob Taylor's mother. Where she lives on Benning, what she's been doing, and so forth. Check her ID, her work history—anything you can think of. I have a bad feeling about all this."

Ashley exited the room. Sato looked her up and down. The expression on the Chief's face wasn't one that Ashley liked to see from her subordinates.

"Get her to med bay," said Ashley.

"Chikushō!" shouted Chief Kato upon entering the cell.

"Yea," said Ashley. "That about sums it up."

She made her way to her cabin as quick as she could, shut the door, and looked at herself in the mirror above the sink. She was covered in another woman's blood. It was all she could do to hold it together. This was the job. She was a Spectre, the ultimate badass, the strong arm of the Council. She was above the law because it was the only way to get the job done.

As she peeled off her clothes she thought about Saren, about what he'd told Shepard during one of their famous battles. Shepard had repeated it to Ashley when she took Udina's offer on the Citadel. Shepard warned her that she needed to be careful, that the job was dangerous in ways she couldn't foresee, that it was the type of thing that could take your soul if you didn't do it right.

Ashley muttered to herself as the hot water rinsed the blood from her hair.

"How else can I do it? I have to save you, Shepard. I have to save everyone, don't I?"

After drying herself, she dressed in her uniform and began to collect her wits. Dr. Cole was in med bay by now, and several crew members had seen her. They'd know what Ashley did, that she'd tortured and maimed yet another person. She'd have to go up to the bridge like it was business as usual. She'd have to be hard, in command. She couldn't show weakness. She'd tell them that they were closing in on Cerberus and that they were going to take the bastards down, and that nothing would stand in their way. That should sell it.

Prangley called up. " _Captain, you're not going to like this._ "

"Hit me," said Ashley.

" _I apologize, I checked this before but t_ _he records are pretty sketchy. I should have looked further than just the ID tag and the Alliance Database. As near as I can tell, Jacob Taylor's mother died sometime late in the Reaper War. The woman in our surveillance tapes, the one using Mrs. Taylor's ID, is a Cerberus Operative,"_ said Prangley.

"So another mole. Someone at Alliance Command entered this kidnapper into the database as Taylor's mother," said Ashley.

" _Yea,_ " said Prangley. " _I'll find out who._ "

"Good," said Ashley. "I also want you to dig up all you can on the operative, all her aliases, who she's associated with, where she's staying on Benning, and so forth. After you do that, forward all the material to Major James Vega. I'll attach a message later."

" _Aye, aye, Captain,_ " said Prangley.

Ashley shut off the com link and sat in her cabin in silence. She felt empty.

* * *

Thirteen hours later, Ashley Williams stood at the apartment door of Shepard's Clone, Emma. She ran through her plan again, tried to recall what Hackett had told her, but she was drawing a blank. Nothing made much sense anymore.

Dr. Cole had been transferred to Alliance Medical, and after that she'd be processed through the courts where she would face a prison sentence for treason. With any luck, Vega would get her son back. If that didn't happen it probably wouldn't matter to Dr. Cole where she ended up.

Ashley should have realized what was going on. Shepard would have figured it out. She'd have known better. She would have extracted the information without torturing a young mother. Why? Because Shepard didn't suck at her job. Ashley was beginning to question whether she was cut out to be a Spectre. It was Udina who'd given it to her, after all, and he'd done it because he figured her for a sucker, someone he could play, and damn it all, he was right.

Everything she'd ever done on her own was a disaster. She'd lost her entire squad on Terra Prime, made the wrong call on Horizon, and failed to support Shepard while she was in prison. If it weren't for Shepard, Udina would have assassinated the entire Council and given the Citadel to the Reapers months earlier, all on her watch. What the hell was she doing?

The door opened. Emma stood in the hallway. She was wearing a black dress, the kind of dress that Shepard always wore. It brought back memories. Her hair was longer now, styled a bit more like Shepard's. Her cheeks were full, she'd been eating for a change. She was gorgeous. Her eyes were emerald. Her smile was wide and warm.

"Ash… uh, I mean, Captain Williams!" she exclaimed. "I was so excited when I got your call. How's Jack?"

"Can I come in?" asked Ashley.

"Of course," said Emma. "Captain, what's wrong?"

Ashley pushed her way past Emma into the room.

"Just call me Ash, ok?" she asked.

Emma's smile broadened. "I would love that."

Ashley exhaled. She tried to collect herself, reminded herself what she was supposed to do and say. This had to go the right way. She'd get the information with honey, like Hackett said, because no way in hell could she do that again, especially not to this woman. She'd protect Emma, no matter the cost. She didn't care if the galaxy burned as a result.

She looked up, felt her eyes watering against her will.

"God, Ash, what's wrong?" asked Emma.

"I messed up, Emma," she said.

She stared at Emma. It wasn't Shepard, she knew that, but it looked like her, felt like her. Emma reached out. Ashley took her hand. It was almost hot to the touch. She couldn't think straight.

"I need you," she whispered. "I need you to fix this, make it all go away."

Emma moved close. "I will, I promise."

Ashley wasn't sure if it was possible. Maybe Emma's words were empty, but it was worth a try. She'd already forgotten her reason for being here, or rather, she embraced the _real_ reason she was here in the first place. She pressed her lips on Emma's mouth. It tasted like… home.

Minutes passed. They were so wrapped up in the kiss they forgot to breathe. When they came up for air, Emma writhed in her grasp. Ashley's thoughts raced to all the things she wanted to do with her, things she'd been unable to get off her mind for days.

Ashley tried to explain. "I need you to be her, at least today, if..."

Emma shushed her, then began to unbutton Ashley's uniform.

"I can be her, for you I can be anyone. I've been waiting for you my entire life, and that's no joke," said Emma.

Ashley laughed and cried at the same time. Everything had gone crazy. It was all wrong, but this had to be right, maybe because it was all she had left. She lifted Shepard up and carried her to the bedroom.

* * *

 **Up Next:** Ashley, James, Kasumi, and Zaeed try to take down Nicholas.


	33. Falling Short

_Much is revealed. Olivia Free, at last! Plus, James Vega, Kasumi Goto, Zaeed Massani, Jason Prangley, and Ashley Williams vs. Nicholas! Boom!_

 _Stay tuned for a special chapter of Reaper Dreams tomorrow. The end is just a few weeks and chapters away._

 _Who knows their Mass Effect lore? Can you figure out Shepard's location based on the poem fragment?_

* * *

"Never confuse a single defeat with a final defeat."

F. Scott Fitzgerald

April 5th, 2188

 **Ashley Williams**

* * *

Ashley woke up on the floor, not far from the apartment entrance. She was half-covered in a blanket. She felt something licking her ankles, a dog, or was it a cat? She couldn't recall Emma having any pets. No, she was positive there were no pets in the apartment. That meant…

She yawned. "Honey, what are you doing?"

The woman at her feet mumbled something inaudible as she began to work her way up to Ashley's calves. It tickled, but it also felt nice. Emma had a rare talent. She was so giving. Ashley had never been with such an unselfish lover before, and because she'd never really experienced play from this side of the field, she didn't know if it was normal. The things they'd done over the past few days were incredible, astonishing, and at times embarrassingly crazy.

Emma liked to push boundaries. She couldn't help herself. There were so many of Shepard's thoughts, ideas, memories floating around in Emma's head, things that Shepard had done that Emma had never actually experienced for herself, and so she had to get it all out. Their lovemaking was a bit intense as a result, but Ashley was ok with it. She understood. It was Emma's first time, and she was trying to do everything all at once.

Ashley tried to keep up, indulge her as much as she could, but sometimes it was just too much. It wasn't easy to say no to Emma. She was persuasive, so persuasive that Ashley went along with things she never would have tried in the past. Perhaps she'd opened herself up to new ideas because she was trying to get as far away from herself as possible. In this place she could be someone else, have another life. She didn't have to deal with what she had done.

Unfortunately, she had only hours until her new Chief Engineer finished her work on the Salamis, and then it was off to Benning for a showdown with Cerberus.

' _Not now,_ ' she thought. ' _Don't dwell on it, don't think about it, just enjoy… this._ '

She could feel Emma's tongue making little circles behind the back of her left knee, then felt it dragging up along her thighs, slick, warm, wet, delicate… It tickled. It felt amazing. There was a part of her that wanted to march into Hackett's office and turn in her resignation. She'd get her pension, and spend the rest of her days doing this, just being with Emma.

Ashley let out a deep sigh. Emma stopped.

"Hey!" said Ashley. "I liked that."

"I know," said Emma. "But it's time."

"Time for what?" asked Ashley.

"I thought about what you said, that if there was anything I could remember, you'd trade just about anything for it. There is something that may be important, and I know what I want," said Emma.

Ashley turned over. Emma crawled up on her and straddled her belly. She wore a grin so devious that Ashley became a little worried. What the hell was she going to ask her to do, marry her? Ashley thought about it. It was crazy, but not the worst idea ever. Yea, she'd do it, definitely, happily and for ever after.

"So you'll do anything?" asked Emma.

"If the information is good, just about anything," said Ashley. "So what is it that you remember?"

Emma smiled. "Nope, first I tell you what you're going to do for it."

Ashley laughed. "Ok, ok, what is it?"

Emma bent down and whispered it into Ashley's ear. It was dirty, and surprisingly elaborate, a well thought out fantasy. It was nothing she had ever imagined Emma could possibly dream up, let alone request of her. It had to be a Shepard thing. Ashley had heard Shepard was pretty wild in the sheets, but this was something else.

Ashley laughed. "You have got to be kidding me! I thought you were going to ask me to marry you or something."

Emma's face transitioned through several shades of red. "Uh, I'm sorry, I suppose I got a little carried away. I…"

She was trembling; again with the nervousness. Was it a genetic thing, or some mental imbalance created by her captivity? Ashley had forgotten how sensitive Emma was. Her reaction to what Emma said had unintentionally humiliated her. Ashley grabbed Emma's arms and pulled her down on top of her, wrapping herself around her.

"No, no, no, baby, don't be ashamed. I'd love to do that for you," said Ashley. "Matter of fact, I'm already looking forward to it."

Ok, maybe that was an exaggeration, but she could manage it, or at least act like she was into it. Emma relaxed in her arms.

"Really?" she asked sheepishly. "You don't think that's sick or anything?"

Ashley laughed. "I don't know about sick, but it's one of the filthiest things I've ever heard, that's for sure. Which probably means it came from Shepard's head, am I right?"

Emma snorted and changed the subject. "You would have married me, honestly?"

"Yea," said Ashley.

Emma sighed. "So can I change it? Wait, let me think…"

Ashley couldn't believe it. "Wait, let me think? Are you telling me you can't decide between marriage and your perverted fantasy?"

Emma was mortified. "I didn't mean it that way, of course, of course, I choose marriage. I choose that first."

Ashley realized Emma was serious, even more surprising, she was just as serious.

"What about both?" Ashley suggested.

Emma gasped. "You're not joking."

"Nope," said Ashley.

Emma kissed her.

"Yes!" she said.

Then kissed Ashley again, and repeated the word yes, over and over each time she kissed her.

Ashley offered up something approximating a prayer. ' _God, please let this be the rest of my life._ '

She was up in the clouds and didn't want to come down, even if there were important things she had to do first. She had to take care of Cerberus, get Shepard's body back, and then she was done... She could see it. A Williams who wasn't in the Alliance. A retired Williams, a happy Williams with a family she saw every day and would never be apart from. No more Cerberus, no more Alliance, and no more Spectres. She'd never have to compromise herself again.

Ashley ran her fingers through Emma's hair. "Ok, I know this ruins the mood a little bit, but I have to ask. What did you remember that might help me?"

Emma sighed. "Honestly, Ash, I already spilled my guts to the Alliance. I tried as hard as I could to tell them every little thing, so this might not be that important."

"Try me," said Ashley.

"Well, I'm not sure what this means," said Emma. "She kept some sort of communication device in the basement, and a few times I heard her start the conversation. It must have been a code or something, because it was strange."

Ashley perked up. "What did she say?"

As Emma thought about it, her eyebrows crinkled in the cutest way. They were just like Shepard's, well, they were Shepard's.

Emma finally recalled. "The land here is furrowed, broken dreams bloom on shoots of green, and home where we stand is but a temporary place in eternity, where the dim light unfading calls us to better fortune."

She sighed. "I know, that's pretty stupid, right? It probably means nothing."

Ashley was excited. "No, it means everything, Emma. It's poetry!"

Emma was confused. "Huh?"

"Poetry," said Ashley. "It's one of my favorite things. The first line has parts of a poem by Olivia Free, and the second line includes a fragment from another poem, one by Sofia Cabral."

"How does that help?" asked Emma.

Ashley kissed her and smiled. "I'll tell you when this is all over, but for now…"

She sat up and pushed Emma to the floor, pinning her arms back. "How about I do that thing you want me to do."

Emma's eyes went wide. "Now? Here?"

"Yea," said Ashley. "I still have time."

For all her big talk, Emma was acting a little apprehensive. It was only natural.

"I was just having a little fun with you," she said. "I don't really…"

Ashley interrupted her. "Too late, I have to do it now, and you can't stop me!"

Emma's eye's fluttered, her breathing quickened, and Ashley could tell, nervous as Emma was, that she wanted it to happen. Ashley spent the rest of the afternoon fulfilling Emma's fantasy, and as it turned out, she enjoyed it a lot more than she could have ever imagined.

* * *

The mansion on Benning was spectacular, a construct of form, function, and elaborate detail. It was solar powered with an old fashioned flare hearkening back to energy crisis designs of the mid twenty-first century. The furniture arrangement was minimalist giving the space an airy quality that Ashley appreciated. The enormous bay windows used Thessian Skyglass, thus reducing the glare of full daylight while magnifying the night over tenfold so that one could actually read an old printed book by starlight if they so desired. There were many such books lining the polished cedar shelves on the walls. One entire wall was dedicated to poetry. In many ways, this was Ashley's idea of a dream home.

"Nice, isn't it!" said Kasumi.

Ashley nodded. "Yea, it's beautiful, truly."

"Thank you," said a musical voice.

Ashley turned to the stairwell. A curvaceous woman ascended from the winding stairs that led below. She was followed by another, her apparent twin. They were both remarkable in appearance, graceful in movement, like two large does swimming through tall grass on a starlit night. They were olive skinned, with long raven hair that fell in straight defiance to their curves. It was like watching black sand trickle through two hourglasses.

"Captain Ashley Williams, this is Olivia Free," said Kasumi.

Ashley glanced at the two women. "Nice to meet you, though, I can't tell… which one of you is Olivia?"

"I am, we are," said the woman nearest Ashley.

Ashley noticed that both women's lips moved, but sound only came from the foremost.

"Uh, ok," said Ashley.

Kasumi explained. "Olivia is a binary twin."

Ashley shook her head. "A what?"

Both women smiled, the mouths moved, but again, only the foremost spoke audibly.

"We are one personality sharing two bodies, two minds. Some processes can be independent, but often they are duplicated. For example, my other self lacks the power of speech, whereas I cannot smell, but both bodies feel many of the same things at the same time. We fall asleep in unison, cry in unison. If one eats food, the other can taste it," they said.

Ashley thought back to her conversation with Ramirez. She begin to piece together what the man had suggested, in theory.

"Melody Gold-Young and Olivia Maslany," said Ashley.

Both women changed expressions and raised their eyebrows as if they were in fact, one person.

"Excellent," said the women, the sound, again only emitting from one mouth.

"But who is who?" wondered Ashley.

"We are the same, as to our former identities, we no longer remember ourselves," said Olivia.

"Wow, that is just, freaky," said Ashley.

Both women shrugged. "We could distinguish in the earliest days after the surgery, by appearance alone. However, our doctor decided to alter us on a cosmetic and genetic level to reflect our new identity."

"The Salarian, you mean," said Ashley.

"Yes," replied Olivia.

Ashley thought about it. "So, one of you was sick, the other was healthy and used as, what? A vessel, a transplant? How is it that both minds can work together across two bodies?"

Olivia explained. "The doctor was able to arrest the advancement of Melody's disease, but it had already destroyed parts of her brain. At first, his plan was only to transplant healthy brain tissue from Olivia. However, he had acquired technology from an alien race as a trade for other human subjects and he was eager for a chance to test it. He used this technology to connect our minds, so that the healthy brain's functions could fulfill the obligations of the damaged brain. Unfortunately, it was an imperfect surgery and some functions were also lost in the healthy brain. In the end, he had to merge both signals."

"God, he turned the both of you into lab rats," said Ashley.

"Essentially, but over time I came to accept and even love who I am, we are," said Oliva.

"And at some point you met Shepard," said Ashley.

"In college," said Olivia. "She was my first love."

Ashley nodded. "It didn't work out though?"

"I was merely a temporary port for her. She was on a voyage that I couldn't take, though we remained close friends," said Olivia.

Ashley shook her head. "She never mentioned you."

Both women smiled. "She respected my anonymity, my art."

"I see," said Ashley. "When was the last time you spoke to her?"

"She wrote us a letter shortly after she became engaged to Liara," said Olivia.

"Did she mention anything important, anything that Cerberus would want to know?" wondered Ashley.

"No, she only discussed her feelings for Liara. She knew it would make me happy to hear that she had finally found her heart," said Olivia.

Ashley felt a surge of jealousy. "So, she really loved Liara?"

"Of course," said Oliva. "It was quite a remarkable love, truly."

"That's nice, but it still doesn't explain why Cerberus is so interested in you," said Ashley.

"Meow!" said Kasumi.

Ashley looked up. "Huh?"

Kasumi cocked her head in a peculiar way. "Sorry, I had a thought."

"Do share," said Ashley.

The thief, taking some dramatic license, put her hand under her chin and twiddled her thumb.

"Let's see here," she said. "Maybe, we're so focused on Adam and God playing tag, we're missing the brain."

Oliva turned to the thief. "You're saying they want my mind?"

"Or what's in it," said Kasumi.

Ashley caught on at last. "The device, you said it was an alien device, and the Salarian doctor traded subjects for it."

"And what alien race traded technology for test subjects?" asked Kasumi.

"The Collectors," said Ashley. "Which means Olivia has Reaper Technology in her head, Reaper Technology that allows direct communication between minds. Oh, God…"

Olivia was startled. "You mean I have a part of those _machines_ in my head? How is it that I'm not indoctrinated?"

Ashley stared at Olivia. "I've seen this once before, an Asari named Shiala. She was indoctrinated, but because of a creature called the Thorian, she shared a collective consciousness with several other people. This allowed her to resist the effects of indoctrination. It was also the same with the Rachni Queen, they had to entrap her and use her to enslave her offspring. She herself, was able to resist indoctrination."

"So a hive mind, so to speak, is a protection against the Reapers," said Kasumi. "That would have been useful in the war, but I wonder why Cerberus wants it now?"

Ashley began to spin possibilities. It was increasingly clear that Cerberus wanted the device in Olivia's head. If the Reapers had altered, or 'upgraded' Shepard and Cerberus had her, perhaps they needed a way to control her, or communicate with her, ergo, if they needed this device, it meant they were either short on resources, or somehow, someway, Shepard was resisting them. If she was resisting them, it meant she was still alive, and possibly, still herself.

"Captain, what do you know that you aren't telling us?" asked Kasumi.

"I'll tell you later, but for now, we need a plan. We need to take Cerberus out," said Ashley.

Kasumi smiled, "I think I know how. Has James moved on the boy yet?"

"Not for another few hours," said Ashley.

"Good," said Kasumi. "Tell him to wait just a little bit longer. We don't want to exploit the mole yet. If we do this right, we kill two birds with one stone, get two outs with one pitch, get our cake and eat it too, no, no, that's not right, what was that? Hmm…"

Ashley sighed. "Kasumi, you can stop now. Get to the point. What's your plan?"

"The plan is, to give Cerberus what they want, or at least offer it to them," said Kasumi.

Ashley saw it now. "You want to use Olivia as bait?"

A familiar voiced interrupted their discussion. "Well, that's just a goddamn stupid idea if I ever heard one."

Ashley glanced in the direction of the voice. Zaeed Massani had emerged from the stairwell to join the conversation.

Kasumi smirked.

"Zaeed, what are you doing here?" asked Ashley.

"He's my bodyguard," said Olivia. "He came highly recommended."

* * *

Several hours later, the plan was in place. Information about Olivia Free's location had been passed across the desk of the Cerberus mole. It was only a matter of time before Cerberus made their move. A message came down from the Salamis that the mole had illegally accessed a QEC. Such a risk indicated Cerberus's desperation, which meant the response was going to be swift. Ashley was nervous.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," said Zaeed.

"Relax, Zaeed," said Kasumi. "Vega's team has been thorough over the past few weeks. Cerberus can't have more than half a dozen operatives left, and we'll be ready for them when they get here."

As if he'd heard them talking, Ashley received a message from James over the com.

" _Captain, both of the guards watching Joshua just vamoosed, and a call came in for fake Mrs. Taylor. I think she's been ordered to dispose of the kid, but she's dragging her feet. Looks like she's a little attached. I've got her locked down with three snipers, do you want us to take the shot now, or wait until they move on you?_ "

"Don't shoot yet, I don't want them getting wind of it. They might smell a trap, but if she makes a move towards Joshua…" said Ashley.

" _Aye, aye, Captain, Vega out,_ " said James.

Ashley cut her com link. "Anytime, now," she said.

"I'm telling you, this smells fucking wrong," said Zaeed. "Why the hell is Cerberus so interested in one little device in a woman's brain? What are they gonna do with the goddamn thing?"

Ashley glanced around. Most of her team was covering the exits, well out of earshot. It was just Zaeed and Kasumi next to her.

"They've got Shepard," said Ashley.

Zaeed chewed on the information for a few seconds. He looked skeptical. "What the hell are you talking about, Williams?"

"It may just be body, but the Reapers have done something to it. Emma overheard Nicholas discussing it with one of her top lieutenants. I also had a visit with the Rachni Queen. She's convinced that Shepard's been trying to communicate with her," said Ashley.

"Holy back again," said Kasumi. "You just can't keep Shep down."

"Apparently not," said Ashley.

"What do you mean when you say _the Reapers have done something_? They haven't turned Shepard into some kind of half-fucked machine, like the Collectors or the Illusive Man?" asked Zaeed.

"I really don't know the answer to that," said Ashley.

"Goddamn it," said Zaeed. "You should have told me this shit from the start."

The old mercenary headed for the stairs.

"Where are you going?" asked Ashley.

Zaeed glanced over his shoulder. "No offense, Captain, but 'livia just became a thousand fucking times more important, and I don't trust those snot-nosed kids you have watching over her to do the right thing if it all goes to hell."

He vanished.

Ashley shook her head. "I hope he doesn't mean what I think he does."

"Count on it," said Kasumi. "The old dog plays for keeps."

Ashley settled in. She checked her rifle a few times, made sure her squad was in position. Chief Kato had the back entrance, Turay the front, Prangley the rooftop. In addition, she had two guards in the basement with Olivia, and now, apparently, Zaeed. She and Kasumi were alone on the main floor of the mansion, but Ashley was confident they had it covered.

Another thirty minutes passed. The perimeter alarms she'd placed away from the mansion were silent. Cerberus hadn't even put a surveillance team in play yet.

Ten minutes later, Vega's voice broke over her com. " _The Cerberus nanny is packing up. Looks to me like she plans on running with the baby, got too close to him, but that means at least some of these pendejos have a shred of humanity left._ "

Ashley nodded. "Let her run, then put a net around her. If she's willing to protect the kid, maybe she'll turn."

" _Right, Captain, Vega out,_ " he said.

"This is taking too long _,_ " said Kasumi.

Minutes later, there was a flash on the horizon. A distant boom thundered.

"What the hell was that?" Ashley wondered.

The perimeter was still clear.

Vega's voice came over the com. " _I don't know what the fuck is going on, but Cerberus just took out an Alliance flight tower with a suicide squad._ "

"Seems like Oliva was lower on their priority list than we realized," said Kasumi.

Ashley shook her head. "That tower is used to direct and coordinate fighter cover, in case of an enemy landing operation or an attack from orbit, but that doesn't make any sense. There's a half a dozen cruisers in the system right now. They'd need…"

Ashley stared out the window just in time. "Fuck me!"

A frigate, similar in design to the Normandy SR2, but slightly larger, came into view. It hovered over the mansion like a bird of prey. One of its auxiliary cannon's aimed in their direction.

Ashley screamed. "GET DOWN!"

The frigate opened fire, using its autocannon to rip open the entire west side of the structure. At a rate of three-hundred and fifty rounds per second, it didn't take long. The floor gave way, Kasumi vanished, and Ashley fell. She narrowly avoided being crushed by one of the large bookshelves. She was buried in debris, and found herself struggling to get out.

Everything had gone to hell. Cerberus soldiers were all over their positions, racing through the house. Ashley managed to pick one off through the dust, but she soon found herself being forced into cover. She was taking fire from all directions. She jumped on her com.

"Vega, we need backup, Alpha, Sierra, Alpha, Papa, now, now, NOW!" she shouted.

A Cerberus soldier closed on her, while another fired at her from a distance. The cloud of dust and smoke was the only thing keeping her alive. Raising her Valkyrie, she waited until the charging man was nearly on top of her before she opened fire. A quick barrage of disruptor rounds depleted his kinetic barrier. Using an old move that Urdnot Wrex had taught her, she jammed her Omni-blade through his armor and into his guts, then pivoted, using the skewered soldier to shield her from the other shooter.

She rushed the shooter's position, the soldier she'd just stabbed still hanging off the front of her rifle, in the throes of death, twitching about, gurgling while she kept her gun at an upwards angle. The idiot soldier lost his nerve, having probably never witnessed such a tactic. If he had half a brain, he would have taken Ashley's legs out from under her, but instead, he aimed high, trying to shoot through the armored man at the end of her gun barrel.

At the last second, she dropped her assault rifle (and its passenger) and slapped her holster. The Paladin was in her hand, finger pulling on the trigger as the soldier's gun barrel pivoted towards her chest. Her round entered just under his chin, went up through his jaw, and out the front of his forehead, splitting his skull wide open. Somehow, she'd made it count shooting from the hip. It was probably the luckiest shot of her life.

Before she had a chance to appreciate it, she felt heat on her back. Her kinetic barrier dropped as she dove forward, rolling, as mass effect rounds tore into her armor. She found herself in a pile of rubble, wounded, shields down, and two soldiers with weapons trained on her. She lifted her pistol, but she knew she was going to have to be lucky again even to get just one of them.

' _Not like this,_ ' she thought.

Both men fired just as they were enveloped by an orange hue. The killing shots that Ashley expected never materialized, instead, both weapons flashed red. One of the firing cylinders, which housed the miniature mass effect core, popped, electrocuting its holder and stunning him. Ashley put three rounds into his chest. The man on the left crumpled as an Omni-blade driven through his back emerged from his gut. Kasumi seemingly appeared from thin air.

Ashley didn't have time to thank her. "Basement," she stated, simply.

Kasumi vanished again. Ashley scrambled through the rubble with her pistol at the ready as she looked for a path into the lower part of the ruined mansion. She found it soon enough. As she plunged down the ruined staircase, she heard the thunder of Kodiak shuttles. The cavalry was on the way.

She met Kasumi at the bottom of the stairs. The thief had just emerged from cloak again to take out one of the Cerberus soldiers she'd met on the way down. The room ahead was a bustle of screams and activity. She'd arrived a fraction of an instant too late.

Chief Kato was on her back, a Cerberus soldier towered over her, pressing her down with an armored boot while aiming a pistol in her face. There were several other bodies strewn about, both Cerberus and Alliance. Zaeed, bloodied, and broken, was crawling across the charred floor. Ashley shouted as the pistol fired. Chief Kato's head jerked from the impact of the round, which went through her face, killing her instantly.

The Cerberus agent's cold laugh unnerved Ashley. She knew instantly who it was. Ashley opened fire. The woman's eyes shed azure tendrils of energy as her biotic barrier easily turned aside the futile attack.

"Not a fucking chance," said Nicholas.

Before Ashley could react, she was jerked into the air as if she were grabbed by a massive fist. She hovered for a brief second, suspended about four meters above the floor, and then came plummeting down. By the time she hit the tiles she was at near terminal velocity. Ashley felt bones shatter throughout her body. Without the mass effect field in her high-impact helmet, her brains would have been pureed inside of her own skull.

As she struggled just to take a breath, Nicholas approached her, boots snapping as she walked. "Still alive, Williams? Good, this is going to be fun. I haven't had a chance to play with a Spectre yet."

One of those boots found its way to the crook of Ashley's neck, just as a Cerberus soldier shouted out a warning. "Boss, we've got incoming. We need to go, now!"

"Shit," said Nicholas.

The air was filled with the roar of shuttle engines and hissing noises as the Cerberus ship's GUARDIAN defense system lit up. Ashley winced when she heard a Kodiak burst into flames and explode. Nicholas's pistol swung towards Ashley, just as a flash appeared on her right flank. The Cerberus operative yelped as a barrage of close range sub-machine gun fire ripped into her barrier, depleting it.

Nicholas pivoted, her eyes flashing blue again as she prepared to use her biotics on Kasumi. Ashley leveraged herself just enough to swipe at Nicholas's feet, knocking her off balance. Suddenly from nowhere, Nicholas was struck by a warp field. She staggered backwards, shouting for help as Cerberus soldiers ran in every direction, firing away.

Ashley could hear a man's voice shouting. "C'mon, bitch, you want some of this!"

' _Prangley,_ ' she thought, while reaching for her utility belt.

A flashbang grenade went off nearby. Fortunately, she was just out of range. Ashley retrieved a pen and jabbed it into her leg, flooding her system with hyper-opiates. Within seconds, she was able to adjust herself to a sitting position while she activated the Medi-gel system in her armor. She crawled to Zaeed, who lay nearby, bleeding out.

Ashley clutched at the old merc. His eyes fluttered half open.

"Did the job," he said. "'livia was brave as hell, knew the score, looked me in the eye like a tiger, approval, beautiful inside as well as out, wish…"

He began to choke, his breathing was labored. Ashley glanced about. She spotted one of Olivia's burned, near headless corpses nearby, evidence that Zaeed had destroyed the Collector technology to thwart Nicholas.

Ashley pleaded. "Stay with me, Zaeed, Vega's here."

A deafening roar thundered above them as the Cerberus frigate's engines fired, rocketing it towards orbit. She felt a blast of heat, which was fortunately directed away from the mansion. Nearby, a grove of trees burst into flame.

Zaeed loosed a macabre chuckle which degraded into a gurgle. "Guts shot to hell, too late, but fuck it, going out a winner. Tell, Susan… Rizzi, tell her, love of my life, no contest."

Ashley laughed through the pain. "I think that's your job, ok, just hold on a little longer."

She could hear Prangley. "Captain, how bad is it?"

Ashley watched the HUD flicker in her left lens.

"Three broken ribs, a slipped disc, separated shoulder, fractured humerus, a round lodged in my hip, lots of bruises and muscle tears. I've had worse, trust me," said Ashley.

"All the women of your generation seem to be made out of steel," observed Prangley.

Ashley gritted her teeth. "That's because God needed us to kick Reaper ass."

She could hear James Vega throwing a fit somewhere nearby. "What a fuckin' mess! Where the hell did that thing come from?"

"Lieutenant," said Ashley. "How's Zaeed? Is there a medical team here yet?"

"Yea, we have one on site," said Prangley.

"Well, get them over here, dammit," she said.

"They're attending to the critically wounded," said Prangley. "I'm sorry, Captain, Massani is gone."

Ashley collapsed back onto the ground in frustration. She spat into the air, in defiance of… something, though she didn't exactly know what. Prangley gave her a fresh shot of Medi-gel while she waited for extraction. She was already dreading her report to Hackett.

* * *

 **Up Next:** Birthday wishes for our hero.


	34. April 11th

_It's April 11th, and in Reaper Dreams Chapter 34, It's April 11th, Shepard's 34th Birthday. I jumped on this, so I had to finished correcting, after posting, ha! Sorry to all of you who got stuck with the pile of typos on the first read through. Feedback, as always, appreciated._

* * *

"On your birthday you should throw me a party. This is my advice for everybody, especially my clones."

Jarod Kintz

April 11th, 2188

 **Ashley Williams**

 **Susan Rizzi**

 **Samantha Traynor**

 **Subject Zero**

* * *

"Ow, ow, ow, would you watch it!" said Ashley.

Emma snorted. "Sorry, baby, but I can't seem to find anywhere where you don't hurt."

Ashley nodded. "Yea, maybe this wasn't the best idea."

"We could just sit in the hot tub instead," said Emma. "Drink some champagne?"

Ashley groaned. "Hot tub, yea, champagne, well, probably best not to mix alcohol with pain meds. Help me up?"

Emma pulled Ashley out of bed, then guided her to the garden room. Each step was misery, but it was good to move. She'd been through this before in worse circumstances. Rehab would take about a month, and then she'd be back on Nicholas's trail. Meanwhile, she had Emma to take care of her. Ashley winced as Emma helped her into the hot water, but soon relief flooded over her. She settled in with a satisfied sigh.

Emma vanished for a few minutes, then returned with water for Ashley and a bottle of champagne for herself. Ashley watched Emma's every movement. The way she slipped into the water, removed the seal on the bottle, poured her champagne, and drank it, all the while making sure she put on a show for her lover. She appeared, submerged and reappeared from the water constantly, and always with a little wiggle. She was like some perverse mermaid trying to lure someone to their watery grave.

It was enticing, but also a little bit disturbing. Ashley began to worry about Emma's authenticity. She was so good at this that it was almost unreal, and that was the problem. What if it wasn't real? She was a clone. What if she had programming? What if this was all a setup, and Ashley was her mark?

She scolded herself. ' _Don't think that way.'_

She couldn't help it.

Ashely also couldn't help but wonder. "Emma, thank you for getting me out of the hospital, but how in the hell did you afford this hotel? Things aren't cheap here on Benning. This room would have cost me three months' salary for one night."

"It was free for me," said Emma. "I signed a contract with a company and this was just one of the side bennies. I do have to make one small appearance tonight. It's a birthday thing for Shepard, but I'll only be gone for about an hour or so."

"Birthday?" Ashley glanced around the room for a calendar.

"Yea, April 11th," said Emma. "Technically, her birthday, not mine, but I don't even remember when I came out of the tank, so I'm just going to go with it."

Ashley was embarrassed. "I didn't even get you anything."

Emma smiled. "You're alive, that's the best gift you could have given me, and maybe tonight, if you're feeling just a little better?"

Ashley laughed. "You're insatiable, you know that? I'll see what I can manage, it'll just have to be very gentle."

Emma took another drink of champagne. "Soft and sweet, I can do."

Ashley shook her head. "You amaze me. I never thought I'd feel this way. I've never even been with a woman before."

"Not ever?" wondered Emma.

Ashley thought about Liara and blushed. "Well, just once, but it wasn't... well, we didn't…"

Emma giggled. "Didn't what? Didn't go down on her, you didn't get off, or you didn't do anything too crazy, or…"

"God, stop, please," said Ashley. "It was just an emotional thing, ok, more like, I don't know, cuddling?"

"Cuddling isn't sex," said Emma.

"Well, it was sexy cuddling," said Ashley.

Emma choked on her champagne and started laughing uncontrollably.

Ashley sighed. "Great, now I feel really done."

"Sorry babe, you're just so adorable when you get this way," said Emma. "This sexuality thing is a real big deal to you. You act like you were born in the twenty-first century or something."

"Well, I always thought I was straight," said Ashley.

Emma smirked. "You want to know a little secret?"

Ashley nodded.

"Shepard was as bit more complicated, she wasn't exactly a woman in the traditional, from the start, sense," she said.

"WHAT?"

"Well, she was, but it was decided late in the game," said Emma.

"There were abnormalities in the pregnancy, probably from the Element Zero exposure. It's the same with most biotics. So, her parents had to make the decision, boy or girl, and they argued about it until just weeks before she was born, so the genetic alterations were made at the last minute. That's probably why she was so girl crazy. Even after the genetic procedure there was a hell of a lot of boy in her."

Ashley's jaw unhinged. "So Shepard could have been a guy?"

Emma smiled. "It was all just a random choice. If you believe in that multiple realities thing, I'm pretty sure Shepard would have been a guy in quite a few of them."

"Wow," said Ashley.

Emma frowned. "And now you're wishing I had different equipment, right?"

"Huh? No, no, baby, we're good, trust me, we're good, especially with, you know," Ashley smirked. "Technology is wonderful, isn't it?"

Emma rolled her eyes.

Ashley changed the subject. "So what's this about a contract?"

"Oh, sorry, I should have run it by you, but you were in bad shape at the time it came up, and I was desperate to get to Benning. It's a promotional thing. I'm going to do some advertisements for MarsGene," explained Emma. "Make a better you, and all of that."

Ashley was concerned. "So what, the public is going to know that you're Shepard's clone?"

Emma nodded. "Someone spotted me back on an Alliance station and the rumors started flying. The Alliance thought it was best to nip it in the bud by telling the truth. You missed the press release when you were in the middle of the mission, but it caused quite a stir. I was approached by dozens of companies and news services within the first few hours. I'm like an instant celebrity."

"Dammit," said Ashley. "I'm sorry, Emma."

Emma laughed. "For what? This is great, Ashley. I'll have the opportunity to do anything I want. I had so much fun doing the ads, I think I'm going to go for the acting thing. An agent contacted me, said when things get back to normal and the relays are restored I'm a shoe-in for the next Blasto movie, and then that film company that makes the Emman…"

Ashley cut Emma off abruptly. "You are NOT going to do that shit, tell me…"

"Woah, woah, woah!" said Emma.

She slipped across the tub and placed a delicate kiss on Ashley's cheek. "Ease up, baby, and give me some credit. I won't say the huge payday wasn't appealing, but no way am I going to ruin my career by doing porn, even if it's softcore. I want to be a serious actress, win awards and all of that."

"Really?" said Ashley.

Emma nodded. "Really."

"If you're famous, where do I fit in?" asked Ashley.

"Anywhere and everywhere," said Emma. "We'll make it work. I know how important the Alliance is to you, so I can take my acting jobs while you're away on assignment, that way I won't be stuck home worrying. God, when I heard about what happened on Benning I almost went out of my mind. If it wasn't for Liara, I would have."

Ashley froze. "Liara?"

"We talked," said Emma. "She had the information the Alliance either couldn't or wouldn't give me, and she's the reason I was able to get out here so fast. She arranged everything through her secretary, Aimee."

Ashley shook her head. "She has a secretary now?"

"Yea, and let me tell you, that girl is on the ball, and wow, talk about a sexy voice!" Emma whistled.

Ashley took a deep breath. "Liara didn't sound angry or anything? About us, I mean."

Emma shook her head. "She's a lovely person, Ash, and I don't mean to pester you, but you really need to call her. You know the baby's not far away, and you promised her you'd be there."

"Shit," said Ashley. "Everything just got a lot more complicated."

Emma stroked Ashley's hair. "No, it just became more wonderful. Listen, Ash, I believe in you. You're going to find Shepard and Miranda, beat Cerberus, and bring them back home, and next year at this time, we'll all be celebrating her birthday, our birthday, together."

Ashley stared at Emma in amazement.

"You sound just like her," she said.

"You don't know how many Shepard speeches I have rolling around in this head. I know they're not mine, they're not my real experiences, but I can't help but find inspiration in them," said Emma.

"You're so different from the other clone," said Ashley. "She was bitter as hell."

"I think part of that is that she never had Shepard's memories, her words," said Emma.

"That doesn't bother you though, to have another person's life in your head?" asked Ashley.

"It's both weird and wonderful," said Emma. "I don't feel all of it, but it's like having a database at my disposal, a twin me in my head. Of course, that comes with some of her baggage. God, her father was horrible. I'm disconnected from that, those memories are faint traces, but I know just enough to be disgusted by him, yet she didn't feel that way. She loved the man. I don't understand why."

Ashley sighed. "Fathers and daughters are complicated."

"So I gather," said Emma.

She'd almost finished her second glass of champagne.

Ashley smiled at her. "Give me a sip."

Instead of handing Ashley the glass, Emma gulped up the remaining contents, then placed her lips on Ashley and tried to force the champagne into her lover's mouth, only half of it made it in, the rest ended up in the tub, or on their faces. Ashley squinted away the bit that got into her eye as they were both laughing.

"So disgusting!" said Ashley.

Emma shook her head. "No, Ash, sexy!"

"You're so weird," said Ashley.

She licked some champagne off Emma's face, then kissed it off her lips.

"Happy birthday," she said. "I love you."

* * *

Joker handed her the bottle again.

"Drink!" he said.

"Oooh, shiiit," said Susan.

"C'mon," said Joker. "You lost the bet, Commander, you have to drink my share as well."

"Thish sho not fair," said Susan.

The general took a drink from his bottle and shook his head in amusement. "Humans, Asari, Krogan, why is it that none of you can handle liquor without impeding your speech?"

"And why is it that you birds can't talk sober without sounding like you're in an echo chamber?" asked Wrex.

"I don't echo," said the General.

Joker laughed. "You ever heard yourself, Garrus? It's like holding a conversation with someone at the other end of a hallway."

The General laughed. "Oooh, so that's why you're always talking so loud when you're around me."

Joker nodded. "Bingo!"

Wrex snorted. "Either that, or he just has a loud mouth."

Susan started giggling uncontrollably, yet again. They all turned to her.

"I have to say, I like this side of her much better," said Wrex.

"I know, I know, great idea, huh? It's nice to know there's someone in there besides this grim, serious, badass biotic," said Joker.

Susan burped. "I'm nod thad sherrus all the time, am I?

Joker shook his head in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Commander, I've never met anyone so serious. Compared to you, Garrus is a goddamned slapstick comedian!"

Everyone roared with laughter, except for Susan.

She sighed, slumping against the wall.

"Hey, don't take it hard," said the General. "All seriousness aside, you're a hell of a soldier, Rizzi. Best I've seen since you-know-who."

Susan felt the sense of loss in the room just at the inference. She became emotional. Maybe it was the liquor, well, yes, it was probably the liquor. Still, she felt compelled to act on it.

She raised the bottle. "Get thish in 'fore I pash out," she said. "To the Commander!"

"Hear, hear!" said Joker.

"Shepard," said the General.

"SHEPAAARD!" roared Wrex.

Susan closed her eyes. The last thing she heard before she fell asleep was Joker speaking in a lower tone.

"Happy birthday, my friend, wherever you are."

* * *

Liara was at the piano again. She'd been there a lot lately, but today it had been all day, playing the same song. It was a lovely song, but Samantha was absolutely sick of it.

Aimee was worried, Jean was worried, even Glyph seemed concerned, if that was at all possible.

Samantha didn't want to intrude, but she couldn't take it anymore. She summoned up her courage and entered the room. Taking a seat next to Liara on the bench, she placed her hand on her friend's arm.

"Are you going to be ok?" she asked.

"It's her birthday, today," said Liara.

"I know," said Samantha.

"This is worse," said Liara. "It was before, and it is again, it's always so much worse, the not knowing, thinking you are losing her, but not really knowing for sure. My people are brought up to accept loss. It's part of our culture. We even talk about it in school because so many of us lose our fathers while we are still children. But this? There is no wisdom I can unearth that helps."

Samantha tried to understand. "But there's hope."

"Is there?" asked Liara.

The Asari looked up. Her eyes were swollen, her face wet with hours of tears. She was a mess. It was difficult to determine what part of her emotional state was induced by the pregnancy, and what part it was just pure emotional torment. Samantha was still dealing with her own grief, but this, this was a whole different realm.

"I have been in love with Shepard since the first day I met her, I think the moment I set eyes on her. It was nearly five years ago, Samantha, and for most of those five year's she's been trapped in some kind of purgatory, hovering between life and death, and now, I don't even know where," said Liara.

The Asari swallowed hard, broke down sobbing, and then collected herself again. Most days she was so sweet, she put on such a brave face, but not today. Today she was falling apart. Samantha was really worried.

"It's the worst feeling, ever," said Liara. "Goddess knows what they are doing to her, what she could become."

She pounded her hands on the piano keyboard creating an ominous crash of discordant notes.

"I want to find the people responsible and hurt them, Samantha. I want to tear them apart. I've never felt so angry," said Liara.

"That I understand, I hate them," said Samantha. "Stupid Cerberus, they're like cockroaches."

"Tikkuts," said Liara.

Samantha raised an eyebrow. "Sorry?"

"Similar metaphor, on Thessia we have insects called tikkuts, they're the ugliest green you ever saw, with big hairy legs, and long bodies with big bulbous eyes. Just imagine, an earth centipede crossed with an earth spider, and they're big, very big, and poisonous, and they're everywhere in our warmer climates."

Samantha shuddered. "Oh, God, please stop. That's quite enough!"

Liara let the slightest smile play across her lips. "Thank you, Samantha."

"For what?" Samantha asked. "I wasn't much help."

"Just being here," said Liara. "It is enough."

"It's not enough," said Samantha. "So I did something else."

Liara looked at her with a curious expression.

"Can't you smell it?" she asked. "Jean made it an hour ago, and there's ice cream."

Liara inhaled deeply, then her eyes widened. "It smells like that treat that Shepard liked, the brown cake with the shredded, what is it called?"

"Coconut," said Samantha. "It's in the frosting. It's German Chocolate Cake."

"It's very good!" said Liara.

"I know," said Samantha. "I told Jean not to worry about the candles, since Shepard's not here to blow them out, but do you want to have some?"

"Yes," said Liara. "I would like that."

Samantha got up, then held out her hand. Liara took it and they walked to the dining room together.

"You'll learn," said Samantha. "It's an old Earth custom, chocolate makes everything better."

* * *

It was nice to be back in the cubby. She'd missed this place. The world here was simpler, easy. Go to sleep, wake up, wait for Shepard to find someone to kill, go out, kill the deserving asshole, come back, and sleep some more. Cruise the extranet, maybe wander over and flip Grunt some shit, or hang with Zaeed, or scare the hell out of the two pussy engineers by cracking her knuckles and putting up her barrier. Yea, this was home.

She took a pull from her bottle and swished the beer around in her mouth. "This was a great idea, Shepard, we ought to do this more often."

Shepard laughed. "Yea, I've missed this."

"So what's the plan for the day?" asked Jack.

"No plans, not until you get out of the coma," said Shepard.

"Oh, yea!" said Jack. "That kinda fucks with all the plans, huh?"

Shepard nodded. "Yea, but it will be over soon."

"I dunno, I kinda like it here," said Jack.

"It's just a memory, Jack," said Shepard. "You're not bored because time isn't moving, but eventually, you have to leave or you die."

"Dying doesn't sound like such a bad deal," said Jack. "Especially since I know how much pain and shit is waiting when I walk up those stairs."

"Yea, I understand," said Shepard. "Been there before."

Jack laughed. "Oh, you've been way worse, you actually died all the way and came back. I bet that was a total fucking trip!"

"Beyond, I thought I was losing my mind," said Shepard.

"Why didn't you?" asked Jack.

"Friendship," said Shepard. "Also, Miranda, I thought I was going to get me some of that."

"Hey!" said Jack. "I didn't know you had a thing for Miranda."

Shepard smirked. "Well, I actually didn't like her at first, but she was still hot, so I thought, maybe angry sex?"

"Damn, I'm not sure I how feel about that," said Jack. "I'm a little pissed off, in fact."

"Pissed that I was into her and not you?" asked Shepard.

"Yea, I suppose so," said Jack. "Really, though, not even a little bit? I mean, it's not like I'm chopped liver."

Shepard smiled. "Well, there was that one time, remember the day we killed the Thresher Maw with Grunt?"

"Oh yea, and we got drunk afterwards," said Jack. "And we were close, so close, yea, we almost fucked!"

"Yea, that was a good day," said Shepard. "I was going to wreck you."

"Oh no, I would have wrecked YOU," said Jack. "I was going to do you like… wait a second, why didn't we?"

"You weren't ready. You needed time. Remember how broken you were?" asked Shepard.

"Yea, I was fucked up, beyond broken," said Jack

"It wouldn't have worked, and I would have lost a dear friend, so I walked away," said Shepard.

"I needed a friend more than a good fuck, so thank you for that," said Jack.

"Anytime," said Shepard.

They both took another drink.

Jack sighed. "Shit, I miss this so much, Shepard, just you and me, in the cubby, hangin', bullshittin', good times. Tell me why I have to leave again?"

"I need you to haul your ass out of here, so you can come and get me," said Shepard.

"Yea, but where are you?" asked Jack.

"Amaranthine," said Shepard.

"How the fuck are you all the way out there?" wondered Jack.

"Cerberus had access to the Conduit," said Shepard. "Shit, access to everything, really. They even snatched hunks of Sovereign off the Citadel, right under the Council's nose."

"They took the Conduit thing, like the one on Ilos too?" asked Jack.

"No," said Shepard. "They just studied it and built their own Mass Relays, two small ones, I mean, just barely big enough to fit a frigate the size of the Normandy through. One is near Noveria, the other is floating in deep space, out beyond the Euler System."

"Well, how the fuck am I going to find a relay floating in deep space?" asked Jack.

"That's Samantha's job," said Shepard.

Jack laughed. "Fucking Traynor, that little nerd?"

"Yea," said Shepard. "Just be ready when she solves it."

"I'll try," said Jack.

"I'm counting on you," said Shepard. "And so is Miranda."

Jack started to remember. "Miri, shit,"

"Yea, you love her," said Shepard.

"How the fuck did that happen? I used to hate her," said Jack.

"Yea, well, I knew it all along. First time I saw you two fight, I knew you would eventually be fucking. It was obvious, to everyone," said Shepard.

"No way, was not," said Jack.

Shepard nodded. "Oh yea, you two were yelling, Garrus walks up to me, tells me about the pool the crew had going."

Jack set her beer down "What?"

"Yea, somewhere in the galaxy, if Hadley is still alive, he's collecting the pool. He said if you didn't kill each other by the end of 2187, you'd be together by the end of 2188," said Shepard.

"Ha! You didn't win. That's a first," said Jack.

"I know," said Shepard. "I thought you'd do the deed if we survived the Collectors. I put five hundred credits on it."

"God, Shepard, you're such an asshole," said Jack. "There's just no fucking way that would have happened. In fact, if I didn't respect you so much…"

Shepard frowned. "What?"

"After the Suicide Mission, if we were still alive, I was going to kill her," said Jack. "I wasn't even going to make it fair. I was going to sneak into her quarters while she was sleeping, and slit her fucking throat, then bug out."

Shepard laughed. "You would never have made it off the ship."

"I had plans," said Jack.

"Damn, you really were a psycho bitch," said Shepard.

Jack laughed. "I know, right?"

"I'm glad it didn't work out that way. What changed you?" asked Shepard.

"You, Girl Scout," said Jack "And those kids, and Kahlee, but don't ever fucking tell her that, also, damn… Miri."

"Miranda changed you?" asked Shepard.

"By changing," said Jack. "I saw her transform, I mean you say I was psycho, but she was worse. You didn't see past the tits and ass like I did, but damn, Shepard, she was a heartless bitch, but then her sister, and then… yea, she changed. I saw it happen. I thought, damn, if she can change, no fucking way I'm staying stagnant."

Shepard began laughing. "So you changed because you wanted to show her up!"

"Damn right!" said Jack. "No Cerberus cheerleader bitch was going to come out looking better than me, would have been fucking unbearable."

Shepard kept laughing, tears rolled down her face. "You are so awesome, Jack. I love you, you know that?"

"Yea, I love you too, buddy," said Jack.

They drank their beer in silence for a few minutes. Jack felt faint. She knew her time was running out. There were decisions to make.

She had to ask. "So, how is Miri?"

"It's bad," said Shepard. "Well, time is a little funny, it's not bad right now, but it's going to get real fucking bad, real fast. Nicholas just showed up, and she failed so she's on the warpath, and she has Miranda all to herself. The shit she's going to do, it's going to be worse for Miranda than you had it as a kid."

"Fucking Nicholas," said Jack. "What's her beef, anyway?"

"She's a child with too much power," said Shepard. "I mean, literally, she's like just over a year old. Petrovsky fucking with genetics, had to outdo his buddy Henry Lawson, make a kid, but have her come out as a grown up, completely dependent on him. Worse, he used Reaper inspired tech, based on the adjutant experiments."

"So, she's not acting like a monster, she's an actual fucking monster," said Jack.

"Sure as hell is," said Shepard.

"And she's got Miri, the woman I love," said Jack.

"So you love her?" asked Shepard.

"Beyond all belief," said Jack. "It's some powerful shit, Shepard."

"I know," said Shepard. "I feel the same way about Liara."

"I'm kind of surprised about that," said Jack. "I mean, Asari are cute and all, but they're also kind of fucking weird, Shepard, and you can and have had, just about anyone you want. So what is that?"

"She's better than me," said Shepard.

"Ah," said Jack. "I bet you don't get to say that often."

"Almost never," said Shepard.

Jack finished her beer. "So, in order for this to work, for me to get Miri back, and for you to find your way back to Liara, I have to get my ass up those stairs and go to work."

"Sure as hell do," said Shepard.

"Ok, on it, boss," said Jack.

She stood up, took one last look at the cubby, and started up the stairs.

"See you around, Shepard," she said.

"See you soon, Jack," said Shepard.

As soon as Jack got to the top of the stairs, everything went to hell. It felt like she'd been dropped off a ten story building. Her body was broken, she couldn't move, couldn't talk. There was a needle up her pee hole and a feeding tube in her throat, and she couldn't' decide what felt worse, or was more humiliating.

' _Fuck this,_ ' she thought. ' _Total bullshit,_ _I'm going back down._ '

Shepard shouted at her from the bottom of the stairs. "You can't, Jack. Get your ass in gear. Remember, I came all the way back from the grave. You can do this shit!"

"Ok, ok," said Jack.

She heard an alarm go off. She took a painful breath, but couldn't talk with that shit in her throat. She tried to tear it out but she was pinned down.

She heard a man shouting. He sounded young, and freaked out. "Call the doctor. I don't know how, but she's alive, she's awake!"

* * *

 _ **Up Next:** Nicholas is out of control, and woeful Dr. Gavin Archer is all that stands in her way._


	35. For Her Love

_One of my beta readers was able to connect all the dots and figure out what's going on. So far, no one else, though I've gotten a few emails from readers who've come close. This chapter is not for the squeamish. Stockholm syndrome is one of those strange things in life that's difficult to understand for those on the outside looking in. I thought it was covered to a certain degree in the first season of the series "Homeland", of course this situation is entirely different, and in many ways, worse.  
_

* * *

" _In situations of captivity the perpetrator becomes the most powerful person in the life of the victim, and the psychology of the victim is shaped by the actions and beliefs of the perpetrator."_

Judith Lewis Herman

April 27th, 2188

 **Dr. Gavin Archer**

* * *

The screaming went on all night long. Gavin covered his head with his pillow to no avail. His own human empathy was like a raw nerve turned against him. The torture that went on behind the wall in that hellish cell was like alcohol being poured over that nerve. Lawson's torment, though diminished by space and otherness, reached him. It brought him night terrors—memories of all the similar things he'd endured.

It was in direct conflict to the fulfillment of his purpose, the purpose set forth by the noise, the noise that came from Shepard. She, it, was cognizant of Lawson's presence, still had ties to her. Lawson's well-being was a concern for the entity that Shepard had become, or was becoming. It still cared. Perhaps loved was a better word. Its feelings for Miranda Lawson were powerful. Miranda's suffering became Shepard's suffering, became Gavin's directive. He had to stop it, though he did not know how.

Worse, Nicholas made him party to it, if only to remind him how close he was to returning to his prone position beneath her almighty boot heel. She was a monster, undiluted, uninhibited by morality or empathy of any kind, and as far as Gavin could tell, unrestricted by duty. What she was doing was getting her no further to her objective, Petrovsky's objective. In fact, it was only getting her further away.

That was the key to making it stop, Petrovsky himself. However, Gavin couldn't go to the man with unsubstantiated charges. He had to prove that Nicholas's failures were created by resistance to her duty rather than misguided exuberance. The question was, why did she resist? How is it that someone engineered to be perfectly capable could fail in every single task she was given? The answers were there, somewhere. If he could only find them he might be free of her at last.

He heard it again, the discordant buzz. Unlike the machine hum that came from Shepard, this noise was distinctively organic. Somewhere in his cell was an insect, perhaps a mosquito of a kind. He couldn't find it. It hadn't bitten him, not yet, but it was a constant pest. It disrupted his thoughts and distracted him from his task. It had become a growing annoyance.

He'd first heard the sound when Nicholas had returned. No doubt, her team had failed to decontaminate themselves before coming through the airlock and into the facility. Where had they been? Benning, he had heard. They probably had mosquito larva on their boots. Damn it all, it was the last thing he needed. It reminded him too much of Aite.

The insects were thick on Aite, especially near the wreckage of the Geth ship. There were caves beneath that wreck, a labyrinth of lava tubes that went deep into the planet. A few members of his team wanted to explore them, but Gavin had forbidden it. The Illusive Man was in a hurry, and failure was not an option.

At first, they protested his restrictions, but when the one team that disobeyed orders was lost to them, they fell in line. That team, Conner's team, vanished from contact only hours after setting off into the labyrinth beneath the Geth wreckage. They were probably killed by accidentally breaching a magma chamber. It would explain why security couldn't even get static when they tried to establish contact. At least it was a quick death for Conner. He deserved a good death, if any death was good. The kid was brilliant despite his crazy theories.

Dr. Conner Watts believed there were ancient races still living in the galaxy, races that had hidden from the Reapers over the cycles. He also believed that the Reapers were always on the hunt for these races. He collected strange artifacts, cave paintings, and mysterious orbs from ancient dig sights. The Illusive Man let him indulge in these fantasies, and ultimately it led to his undoing. He was convinced that the Geth were on Aite for a reason, perhaps searching for one of these missing races. Sadly, Conner never got his answers.

Gavin sat up, listening. At last there was silence. It seemed that Nicholas was finally satiated for the night. Either that or Lawson had already succumbed to the inevitable. After all, the human body and mind was only capable of so much punishment. He sat at the edge of the bed and waited. The knock came. It was Nicholas.

The woman was always so calm after torture, so at ease with herself. Her serene expression was not unlike that of a newborn that had just taken milk from its mother's breast, and that was the most harrowing aspect of all—the degree to which human pain and suffering satisfied her. It wasn't just mental illness. There was something deeper, more sinister at play.

If this was Cerberus's idea of improvement, the future face of humanity, then it was worse than anything the Reapers were trying to accomplish by destroying the species altogether. Gavin shuddered at the thought of more creatures like Nicholas being brought into existence. It would be an abomination, an entire race of super predators. Gavin could easily envision Nicholas and her ilk sweeping across the stars on behalf of humanity, crushing every alien species before them.

Physically, she was stronger than a Krogan, perhaps as strong as a Yahg. Her biotics were beyond anything he'd seen, even from an Asari Matriarch. Her intelligence was also highly developed, perhaps not quite a match for a Salarian, at least not yet, but what about the generation that came after her? The galaxy would be as helpless before them as it was the Reapers, and this time there would be no secret weapon to save the cycle. Somehow he had to stop her. No, that was a foolish thought. He'd only fail.

Nicholas snapped her fingers. "Go to the dispensary, retrieve some hygienic supplies and medical kit and report to Lawson's cell. Render assistance and get her cleaned up. I want her fresh and alert in six hours. If she's not, and I'm forced to let her rest, then you and I get to spend a little quality time together in your old cell. Would you like that, Gavin? I'll make sure it's just like it used to be."

Her responded respectfully. "Yes, Ma'am, no Ma'am."

She tilted her head, regarding him with that casual expression that betrayed a generous amount of contempt mixed with amusement. There was also just a sliver of longing, like a child would regard a toy that they had broken and cast aside for newer and better instruments, but no matter how disused the toy had become, the urge to play with it one more time would always return. Gavin trembled as he watched the longing play out in her expression.

Nicholas grabbed hold of him and bit into his neck, drawing blood. After she removed her teeth from the wound, she licked the blood from his flesh as if it were honey, savoring every drop of it. He responded sexually, against his own will. That was always the worst part, the way his body betrayed him every time she touched him, no matter how repulsed he was by her presence. He hated her, but he couldn't resist her. Whenever she did this to him, that's when the real terror would begin, that's when he wished he could end himself. There were so many times he wanted to die.

Nicholas mused. "She's harder to train than you were. You were always such a good boy, Gavin, so eager to please. I bet you were nothing but a disappointment to your parents and superiors, no real talent, nothing but a lapdog. Is that about right? Lawson won't give me what I want. She's too proud, too well trained, unlike you. Men like you are simple, so much more responsive to the right application of pressure."

Gavin shuddered as her hand slipped into his trousers and found what it was looking for. Nicholas knew everything about him. He had no secrets from her, save that one thing, that one solitary thing. She didn't know, and he couldn't let her find out. But what if she sensed it? Dammit, she would know. She always found out. He had no defense against her.

She leered. "Do you want to be a good boy for me?"

His head bounced up and down in affirmation like a puppy wagging its tail. She said something about giving him a treat, which made him happy, again, against his will. Why did it make him so happy? He hated her. He never felt right after being with her. The sexual release was always followed by guilt and pain. She moved in close. He flinched, but didn't try to get away. It was no use.

Her body radiated heat like no other woman he had known. It wasn't natural. He missed her sweet smell, hated the stench of her breath, loved her caresses, and cringed at the feel of her skin on his own. His heart began beating wildly. He tried to think of things that would prevent his arousal, but instead he gasped as her fingers brushed against his genitals ever so delicately. Gavin felt ashamed because he didn't want her to stop. He hated that the evil bitch could make him feel like this, make him dance like a puppet on a string. She forced him against the wall, then unzipped her uniform, guiding his mouth to her beautiful breasts. He went mad with desire.

Their bodies slammed into the wall, thrashing about wildly. She peeled off her uniform and let him drink in all of her perfection. There was no woman on heaven or earth more beautiful than Michelle Nicholas. It was all by design of course, she was engineered with every desirable genetic trait, created to be not only the perfect woman, but the perfect human.

Gavin would not be surprised to find out that Petrovsky's team included a Y chromosome in her genetic matrix, it only made sense, since that particular strain of DNA was more susceptible to mutation. Life forms that evolved more quickly, the Asari and many other species on Thessia, for example, never developed the male mutation gene. Their quick adaptation allowed for more efficient methods of reproduction. Gavin wondered if Nicholas would be the same. Would she even require a male to reproduce?

She pressed against him, her pheromones overwhelming his senses. Gavin surrender to the inevitable. He belonged to her. God, he needed this. He needed release. She put her mouth to his left ear, the good ear, the one she hadn't chewed off yet.

"Tell me you want me, that you'll do anything for me," she whispered.

He went cold. No, no, no, this was always bad, but if he didn't say what she wanted, there were repercussions, and they were almost always dire. He surrendered at once. He'd deal with the shame later.

"I want you, I'll do anything," he promised.

"Help me with Lawson," she demanded.

Gavin stammered. "I, I don't know how."

"Tell her what you're hiding from me," said Nicholas.

Gavin's hopes were crushed. She knew, somehow she knew. She was going to make him destroy his own last shred of humanity and Lawson's along with it.

He tried to act innocent. "What do you mean?"

She laughed. He'd failed. Nicholas locked his head in a vice grip with one hand and started squeezing while lifting him off the ground. She stared into his eyes. He'd forgotten how tall she was. She towered over him.

"Never lie to me," she said.

The pressure was intense. Nicholas could crush his skull with her one hand if she wanted. She was more than capable. He tried to squirm out of her grasp but it was pointless.

The machine sound in his head started buzzing, but it was drowned out by… damn, there was that insect again. Where was it hiding? He opened his mouth to betray Shepard, betray himself.

Nicholas set him down and put her finger on his lips. "Not yet, when it's time. Tell Lawson first, tell her all your plans. Tell her what Shepard wants you to do."

"Why?" wondered Gavin.

"I want her to believe she's going home, and then I want to crush her," said Nicholas.

Gavin shook his head in dismay. "What's the point?"

Nicholas kissed him. It was thrilling. He needed her.

"Do you love me?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered.

It was a lie. It wasn't a lie.

"That's what I want from her," said Nicholas. "Before I kill her."

Evil, pure evil. It was all so hopeless. Why had he let himself believe he could beat her? Why had he let Shepard play him for the fool?

"What else do you want?" he asked.

She showed her teeth, apparently satisfied with his answer, at least for now. She was in a playful mood, but that didn't make her less dangerous. In fact, Gavin was always in the most danger when she wasn't angry. Nicholas pushed him onto the bed, then pulled his pants off and bit into his leg. He winced. He hated it when she was in a biting mood.

They had vigorous sex. Nicholas enjoyed herself more than usual, at least three times by his count, but it was never about him as she so often liked to remind him. He was but a tool at her disposal, an object of flesh and bone that she could use as she saw fit. She never let him truly enjoy himself. Whenever his time approached she would choke him out, or hurt him in some way before she proceed to use him again. Ultimately, the only way he was allowed release was to submit himself to a particular brand of perversion that spilled out of her deranged imagination. Just when he thought she couldn't degrade him any further, she'd find something new.

She was never tender or affectionate, never loving or warm. She took everything from him and offered nothing in return, save the occasional reprieve from his torment. If she would only smile at him, give him the smallest token of dignity, then he should love her like no man had ever loved a woman. At this point it was all he wanted, really, but she was never going to give it to him.

Afterwards, she stood over him while he lay on the bed, exhausted and once again, humiliated. He worried that she hadn't had her fill, but as soon as she reached for her clothes, Gavin felt a flood of relief. Fortunately, her eyes were downcast as she pulled on her panties. If she'd seen his expression, he would have suffered for it.

"Make sure to give Miranda hope," she said. "Tell her something she wants to hear."

Gavin was at a loss. "Like what?"

Nicholas sneered at him and turned away. He felt like an idiot.

After she finished dressing and left the room, Gavin went back to hating her like he had hated no other. She was a monster, an anathema, but he had to obey her. What he was about to do to Lawson was nigh unforgivable, but he really had no choice in the matter. The former Cerberus Operative would understand the same soon enough.

He washed in the sink, filling it and splashing the cool water over his belly and groin so he could get the stench of her sex off his body. During the height of his torture she would never let him wash. He'd been forced to stew in her filth, often for several days. It was her way of reminding him that he was owned, body, mind, and soul.

Gavin left his room, set on doing exactly as she'd told him. He stopped by dispensary and asked the attendant to retrieve the supplies he needed. The woman nodded grimly and went to work. Morale appeared to be lower than ever. Gavin wasn't sure if it was due to Nicholas's failure, or other concerns. Of course, ever since he'd first arrived he noted that the Cerberus personnel at this particular base weren't exactly the happiest bunch he'd seen.

One man in particular, the chief security officer, was always glum. At the moment he sat in the commissary just across from the dispensary, in his usual spot at the bar, drinking. He worked for Nicholas. Why wouldn't he be drinking? Gavin watched the man curiously as he waited for the attendant to find all that he needed. The man turned to Gavin and made eye contact, then returned to his drink.

Once Gavin retrieved the supplies, he left for the cell block. As he passed the commissary, the man at the bar got his attention with a gesture. It was probably prudent to pass on by, but Gavin couldn't help himself. He so rarely had the freedom to interact with anyone outside the lab.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

The man waved him over. Gavin complied, glancing about to make sure no one saw. Fortunately, all security cameras had recently been removed from the base upon Petrovsky's insistence. The General never explained his reasoning, but Gavin suspected he was becoming paranoid. Perhaps he was worried that if they were raided, and data was retrieved, it could be used as evidence against him. At least that was a theory.

The man spoke. "You're Dr. Archer, aren't you?"

Gavin nodded.

He stared at Gavin's prosthetic arm. "That's an improvement over the last time I saw you."

Gavin glanced down and flexed his artificial fingers. "Yes, Nicholas wanted the best for me."

The man mocked Gavin with sardonic laughter. "Best for you, eh? You poor bastard."

Gavin was uncomfortable. This could be a trick by Nicholas. He dared not say a word against her.

The man sighed. "Yea, I get it, you are so beaten down by now that you may actually believe that shit."

Gavin said nothing.

The man took another drink. "Don't mind the supply clerk, she's had a hard day. She somehow managed to lose a whole blood supply stock. The General isn't happy."

Gavin started to move on, but the man waved him back.

"I saw them bring Miranda Lawson in, is she, I mean, how bad is it, Doc?" he asked.

Gavin stared at his medical kit. The man's expression changed to one of pain. He shook his head miserably and drained his glass.

"I joined this crew because it was obvious the Illusive Man had lost it, gone over to the Reapers, but is this any better? What are we even doing? They tell us that mankind is facing a bigger threat than before, so I go along with it, play the loyal soldier. Also, I mean, where else am I going to go? I stayed with Cerberus too long. I'm basically a war criminal now, so I'm stuck for good, but I don't like it anymore, not at all, and they don't tell us what the hell is going on in this facility," he said.

"Research," said Gavin.

"I can only imagine, considering you're here," said the man.

Gavin cocked an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Yea," said the man. "I remember you, Operation Overlord was it? Shepard had to bail your ass out. I heard about all that evil shit you did to your own brother. I wonder who the poor bastard is in that lab of yours, another autistic kid?"

Gavin's head hummed with the noise of the machine. He was supposed to say it, but why? Perhaps the machine saw this man as an ally. Before he could stop himself, the word's spilled out.

"It's Shepard," he said.

The man froze. "Is that your idea of a fucking joke?"

"No," said Gavin. "I'm deadly serious."

The color drained from the man's face.

Gavin flexed the fingers on his artificial hand. "I'll get worse than this if anyone finds out what I said to you."

Before they could exchange another word, they were interrupted by a passing guard. She halted and glared at them.

"Hadley," said the woman. "You know better than to talk to him."

"Hey," said Hadley. "I had to find out if Lawson was still alive. She used to be my boss, you know. Doesn't loyalty count for anything around here?"

The woman shook her head and frowned. "Don't, she's meat, Hadley, let it go or Nicholas will have you in an adjoining cell."

He sighed and stared at his empty drink.

"Yea, that's it," she said. "Order yourself another drink, Hadley, you can bury yourself in the bottle as much as you want, just remember to keep your mouth shut while you do it."

She turned to Gavin. "And you'd best be on your way. I'd rather not have to tattle on you to Nicholas. You're running out of shit she can cut off."

Gavin hurried away. No matter what else happened, he'd at least pulled off one act of defiance. It probably wouldn't amount to much, telling some drunk the truth, but at least he'd done something. Now he was about to betray Lawson, which washed his brief interlude with righteousness away.

The guard let him into her cell. He set his kit down, then went out to the closet and retrieved a cleaning drone. After he returned, he glanced around. The chair was empty. Where was Lawson? He finally spotted her in the corner of the room, naked, soaked in sweat, and curled into a fetal positon. The odor of the room was nauseating, a horrible mixture of human waste and burnt flesh. He'd been through this himself, so he knew just what to do. He'd made sure he brought the right chemicals and supplies.

Gavin activated the cleaning drone and let it go to work, freshening the air and cleaning the room. He approached Lawson and went to work on her without permission. Under normal circumstances he would have tried to coax her into letting him near. He would have worried a prisoner might attack him, but he knew her state from firsthand experience. Once Nicholas had spent a few hours with a person, they were all but helpless. He could have done anything to her and she might not have noticed.

Taking a breath, for fear of what he might see, he turned her over. She flopped like a useless doll. Her eyes were open, face fixed in a grimace. A quick check of her extremities revealed less damage than he expected to find. Nicholas was getting better, more refined. She'd inflicted the maximum amount of pain with the minimum amount of physical damage. Gavin wasn't sure if he was better or worse for the fact that he was her learning curve. Often, her excesses allowed him longer periods of respite because she feared he would die.

A quick check of Lawson's extremities revealed burns on the tips of her fingers, toes, tongue, and other more sensitive areas. All hair follicles on her body had been scorched off. Her teeth were blackened from burning saliva, and the skin on her ankles, wrists, chest, neck, and lower spine was marked by Lichtenberg figures.

Her breathing was shallow, but her pulse steady. He listened carefully to her heartbeat. She was free of fibrillation as expected, so she wasn't in danger of imminent death. He then ran an echo, an ECG, and an EP via his Omni-tool. There were no prominent arrhythmias, no signs of scarring, and only a faint murmur. It would be a problem later in life, but it wasn't as if she would live long enough to deal with it.

Her pupils responded slowly, and a close examination of her eyes indicated some blood vessel damage, as well as early signs that blister cataracts were forming. At this rate, she'd be blind in a few months, but the chances were she'd be dead or broken well before that happened so it wasn't a major concern, yet. It was all very impressive if one admired the sadistic application of electrical current. In that respect, Nicholas had transformed herself into an artist.

Gavin felt something, perhaps pride? Yes, he was proud of Michelle, how far she'd come. For a brief moment he reveled in her accomplishments, and then nearly choked in horror when he realized what he was feeling. Goddamn, what had she done to him? He shook off the spell and returned to work.

He washed Lawson gently using his good hand without a glove, and a soft cloth. He knew from experience that what she needed most was compassionate and dignified human contact. Someone who was trying to help her, and not harm her. Later, when she began to respond, he would give her distance. Often victims of this method of torture were docile until the shock wore off, and then they would become combative, crazed even. Before that happened, she'd be put back into the chair and restrained.

For now, he cleaned her wounds. Applied balm to all the entrance and exit burns, save those that invaded her privacy, and gave her an injection of medi-gel. As soon it hit her system, her breathing increased and she began to cry, then wail. This was always the most difficult part, returning from a near catatonic state and being plunged back into a world of despair and hopelessness.

From what he'd heard, she'd survived a week of torture before finally breaking down like this. It was impressive, truly, but it didn't do her any favors. Sometimes bravery was worse than cowardice. This was one of those times.

"Can you hear me, Lawson?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Listen, you need to stop resisting her," said Gavin.

"Bullshit," she whispered.

"You've got to stay alive," he pleaded.

Lawson closed her eyes. "No…"

"Just do as she says," said Gavin.

"Can't," said Lawson. "Can't give her anything she wants, not one opening to exploit."

"Listen," said Gavin. "Shepard is in control, but she needs time. Do you understand?"

Miranda turned to him, blinking. She was listening now.

"There's a Geth in her," said Gavin.

That part was true at least.

"She and the Geth plan on getting into our systems. From there, the Geth can propagate into any on-site computer, including our security mechs, and then we take this base and wait," said Gavin.

Lawson was quite interested now. "Wait for what?"

"Jack is on her way," whispered Gavin. "She's putting a team together—Zaeed Massani, Kasumi Goto, Justicar Samara, James Vega, and a Spectre, named Williams. They've got a ship, and they're looking for us."

"How do you know that?" asked Lawson.

"Shepard used a backdoor signal to get through to Jack, to tell her where we are. Now it's just a matter of time," explained Gavin.

Lawson's distrust did not falter. "There's no backdoor signal. It's a lie, impossible…"

Gavin cut her off. "There was a message from Jack, something, about 'mine', and she wasn't going to let Cerberus take you away."

Lawson's eyes filled with tears. There it was, hope. For some reason something he'd said struck a chord. She believed him. Why? He'd just made that up. It had just popped into his head in desperation. Still, she believed, and that was good enough. He exploited it, though not without shame.

"Give Nicholas everything she wants, give in to her every whim, that way you can be close to Shepard. She'll let you into the room. Then you can help me enact the plan," he promised.

He watched Lawson's face. She weighed his words against her better judgement, then faltered, clutching to vain hope instead of her reasoning and training. She surrendered to the lie.

"Ok," she said.

Gavin glanced around. "I'll be back when I can, hopefully soon."

He gave her a small blanket for additional comfort so she could sleep. She was still too weak to act, so it was safe. In a few hours the guards would remove her to the chair and take the blanket away so she couldn't use it to suffocate or strangle herself.

Tomorrow, Nicholas would start on her. Lawson would begin to resist before ultimately breaking and giving in. She would tell herself that she was doing it for Shepard, that help was on the way, and that soon she'd be free again, but unfortunately, all she was doing was moving one step closer to being another one of Nicholas's puppets, just as he was.

As soon as Lawson fell asleep, Gavin left the room. Nicholas kept her distance until he was safely away from the cell. She waited for him in the main hall. As he approached, he was afraid she would punish him for what he had withheld for so long, instead, she smiled. It was the first time she'd ever looked at him with affection. It utterly thrilled him. She reached out and stroked the side of his cheek with tenderness. That simple act made his heart swell with joy.

"Excellent work," she said.

She left him there in the hallway, exhilarated, exuberant that he'd finally managed to please her. The organic buzzing filled his ears. He swatted at empty air to no avail. Nearby, he thought he saw something strange in the hallway, a heat shimmer. Worrying that the environmental controls might be malfunctioning, he checked the ventilation. There were no output vents nearby, puzzling.

' _I must be tired,'_ he thought.

Gavin went back to his room and fell asleep. Periodically he would awaken to check for mosquito bites, but there were none he could find.

* * *

 **Up Next:** _Josslyn Shepard's final trip down memory lane._


	36. True Blue: Part I (Tattooed)

**_UPDATE: I'll post the second part of this chapter on Wed. Had a few kinks to work out. ;)_**

 _This is the last Shepard flashback chapter of Reaper Dreams. These events take place on the Citadel the day after Udina's failed coupe and the death of Thane Krios. Because Jack is available in the club right after Thane's death, I always take Shepard to meet up with Jack, and though the scene cuts out, I assume that she drinks way too much... probably hits the Ryncol. "put more stuff in the stuff". Thane is one of my favorite character's, thus by default is dear to Josslyn Shepard. She takes his death hard, but it also brings her to a point in life where she's ready to make a major commitment to Liara._

 _I wrote the latter part of this chapter with the song "Keep Yourself Warm" on loop. Love the song, love the vibe and what it's saying, and it's especially appropriate for this version of Shepard._

 _I crossed 11k words so I had to bust this chapter in two.  
_

 _"That's how you know it's true. I could never put that in a book, too unlikely!"... Varric Tethras_

* * *

 _It takes more than fucking someone_  
 _To keep yourself warm_

Frightened Rabbit

December 13th, 2186

 **Josslyn E. Shepard**

* * *

She'd meant to be with Liara, but somehow she'd ended up with that stripper from Omega again. What had she done now? She turned to the Asari who'd been kissing her neck, only to realize it was actually someone else entirely, Gianna, no wait, Kelly, no, it was the secretary from the Citadel, and then the Consort, and… how many women had she been with? They kept changing.

' _Ah, it's a dream. That's what's going on,_ ' she thought.

The balloon popped and she woke up in a cheap hotel. She had only the slightest headache and her mouth tasted like she'd filled it with cotton balls soaked in rocket fuel. The fact that she felt it at all meant she must have been drinking a lot. She had a vague recollection of the hospital, saying the prayer with Thane's son, and watching the life drain out of her friend. Grief, loss, she needed to blow off steam, so she went to the club. She danced with… she couldn't remember.

She turned over in bed and blinked. There was an empty spot next to her, but it was indented. Someone had been sleeping in it. The shower was running. She sat up and glanced around, rubbing the sleep out her eyes. She could hear the loading horns, shuttles, and freight tugs, which meant she was in one of the hotels near the Citadel docks, but who was she with?

Shit, what had she done now? The shower shut off and a woman emerged from the steam. Shepard saw her as she slipped into the dryer. The tattoos, the scars… Jack. She remembered now, she'd met Jack for drinks, found her going over the duty roster, bitching about responsibility, and gushing with pride over her kids. She'd somehow managed to pry Jack away from her responsibility. Shepard needed to cut loose, get Thane's death off her mind.

Jack came out of the bathroom in search of her clothes. Her skin was still damp, glistening, which caused her ink to look slick in the hotel lights. It was beautiful, she was beautiful. Had they? She stared at Jack and tried to run through all the events after the club.

Jack noticed her stare. "Damn, Shepard, you takin' a picture?"

She couldn't find the words, so she settled for a soft grunt.

Jack pulled on her pants. "Seriously, why are you looking at me like that?"

Shepard brushed her hair out of her eyes. "Crazy night, huh?"

Jack snorted. "Yea, real crazy."

Shepard vaguely remembered dropping by Jack's hotel room, but nothing… ah, there it was. She remembered now. Shifting her weight, she reached down and brushed her hand over her left glute. It was a little tender.

She was relieved. "Oh, tattoo! That's why we came here. You talked me into some ink."

Jack laughed. "Right on, Girl Scout. I was going to put it on your shoulder blade, but nah, you're a lot more fun when you're drunk. You dropped trou, slapped your ass, and said, 'put it right here!' Who was I to argue?"

Shepard blushed. "That was probably the liquor talking."

Jack nodded in the most unsympathetic way. "Did I not warn you to stay away from Ryncol? I like a good time too, but that shit can kill humans, Shepard—even biotics like us."

"Noted, but how did you talk me into a tattoo to begin with?" Shepard wondered.

"You're not the only one in the galaxy with powers of persuasion, you know," said Jack.

"Uh, huh," said Shepard. "By the way… uh, my memory is pretty hazy, so…"

Shepard glanced at the bed they'd slept in.

Jack shook her head in amusement. "Relax, Shepard, nothing happened. I'm not completely feral. I have rules about this sort of thing, and you were way past the line. Besides, I hear that little blue beauty of yours has some serious connections, and I don't want to end up face down in a back alley somewhere."

Shepard felt relieved. Jack, who had just finished dressing, approached her. Reaching out, she grabbed Shepard's bicep, gave it a squeeze, and let out a low, predatory growl. The expression on Jack's face brought the blood back to Shepard's cheeks.

"Not that I wasn't tempted, Girl Scout, I mean, look at you! You're every bit a lady, and yet those muscles… shit, there isn't a woman in the galaxy who wouldn't want a ride on your pony," said Jack.

Shepard sighed. "Yea, that's been a lifelong problem of mine."

"Ahhh, poor you," said Jack. "Must be rough being the galaxy's hottest rock star."

Shepard protested. "I'm a soldier."

Jack shook her head. "Uh, look around, Shepard, we're at war and you're a fucking war hero, you're our leader. You think anyone gives a shit about these politicians, these stuffy old admirals who've been riding desks most of their lives? No, they're counting on you, they're looking at you. People believe we can win because of you, so yea, you're a rock star, shit, you're bigger than that—you're a fucking supernova."

Shepard was uncomfortable so she changed the subject. "It still stings a little bit. How many people have you inked?"

Jack shrugged. "No one, nobody else ever mattered enough."

"I see," said Shepard.

"Don't let it go to your head," said Jack.

"Not a chance," said Shepard. "So are you going to tell me what it is?"

Jack used her Omni-tool refractor to project the design. "You got this. Hope you like it cuz it's too late now."

"It's a little big," said Shepard. "But it's nice."

"Nice?" said Jack. "It's not about nice. On this one bad drop on Palaven I had to pull Rodriguez out from a pile of husks, and if I hadn't recognized her ugly fucking boot I wouldn't have seen her. She would've died under there."

Shepard understood. "Ah, so it's…"

Jack interrupted. "Good enough, so if you're ever hurt, barely breathing, lying under a pile of rubble at the ass end of this war, you're going to have…"

As her eyes pooled with tears, Shepard wrapped her arms around her.

"It's ok," she said. "You worry too much."

"You're the only friend I've ever had," said Jack. "I never thought that would mean so damn much, but there you fucking go. You've ruined me."

Jack got up and put some distance between them. Shepard glanced around and spotted her tank top hanging off a shelf. She didn't want to ask how it got up there. Retrieving it, she pulled it on. She found her Omni-tool near the bed. Her pistol was on a nearby cabinet, but the holster was missing.

Jack had collected herself. She was at the door. "By the way, I'm way behind on my duty roster and reports, so thanks a lot for that."

Shepard grinned. "You're welcome."

"Don't worry, I'll get even. In fact, it'll probably come sooner than you think," said Jack.

"Right," said Shepard.

She walked around the edge of the bed. "By the way, where are my pants?"

She heard the door shut. "Jack?"

' _Nah, she wouldn't have,_ ' thought Shepard. Besides, when Jack left, she had nothing in her hand but her pad.

Shepard continued to search the room in futility. She checked the shower, the closets, and everywhere else she could think of, and then her com channel buzzed on her Omni-tool.

" _Hey, Shepard,"_ said Jack. " _Just a warning, there's a shitload of people in the lobby, a bunch of reporters too, including your favorite, the al-Jilani bitch._ "

"Great," said Shepard. "How did they know I was here?"

" _One of the clerks who saw us stagger in last night probably tipped them off,_ " said Jack.

"Funny, Jack, but the joke's over. Where did you hide my pants?" asked Shepard.

" _I didn't hide them anywhere, honest,_ " said Jack.

"Then where the hell are they?" asked Shepard.

" _Oh, I should have mentioned this earlier,_ " said Jack.

Shepard groaned.

" _Remember when you pulled off your pants in the elevator to show me where you wanted the tattoo_?" asked Jack.

"Shit," said Shepard.

" _That's where I think you left them. They're long gone now. I warned you about that Krogan shit,"_ said Jack.

"Jack, you have to help me out here," pleaded Shepard.

" _Why?_ " asked Jack. " _It's my art, Shepard, and it's going to be on every news feed in the galaxy. That's the kind of publicity I could never afford._ "

Shepard was desperate. "What about friendship? Didn't you just say I was…"

Jack cut her off. " _Really, Shepard, I hate to break this to you, but I'm kind of an asshole. You should start choosing better friends. Besides, it's not so bad, it's not like you're wearing ugly underwear._ "

Shepard looked down. It was a worst case scenario. Before going to the club, she'd asked if Liara was going to join her. She was hoping for an intimate evening together, and had dressed appropriately. Quite frankly, it would have been less lurid to pass through the lobby completely bare assed, and for a second she actually considered it. But there was no way in hell…

"Jack!" yelled Shepard.

The com link went dead.

"Oh, next time I see you, you are so going to get it," she muttered.

She stared at the bed. She could wrap a sheet around her waist to walk out in, but that would make it even worse. The last thing she needed was the press speculating what she was hiding under the sheet. She could see the scandalous headlines now, and none of them were very flattering.

She opened her com link. "EDI, here are my coordinates. I need transportation, like pronto."

" _Certainly, Commander,"_ replied EDI. " _I'll arrange for a taxi to pick you up in front of the hotel._ "

"No, no, no," said Shepard. "No taxi, I need private transportation, and I need it outside the hotel window. I'm in room…"

" _Commander, I can track your location. Is this an emergency situation? Do you need tactical support?_ "

"No, pants," said Shepard.

" _Excuse me?_ "

Shepard was losing her temper. "Is this twenty questions? Just send someone from the Normandy, in a car, with a pair of PANTS! Preferably in my size. _"_

" _Of course, Shepard,_ " said EDI. " _However, I feel it is my duty to provide all pertinent information. According to the data I accessed, the building you are in does not have an exit on that floor. There is no window access. They are sealed._ "

"Just leave that to me," said Shepard.

" _Commander…_ "

"EDI, the car, now," said Shepard.

" _As you wish,_ " said EDI.

Several minutes later her com blinked.

" _The transportation you requested is outside your window_ ," said EDI.

"Good," said Shepard. "Are there any civilians or other personnel below the window?"

" _Checking… all local feeds show the area clear,_ " said EDI. " _Though there is a significant gathering of civilians and press in the lobby._ "

"So I hear," said Shepard.

She raised her pistol and shot the window out. Once she spotted the sky car, she leapt out the hotel and onto the hood, then scrambled through an open window and into the passenger seat as quickly as she could, praying that no one saw her. As soon as she was inside, she found herself face to face with James Vega. His expression was priceless.

"What the hell, Lola?"

Shepard snapped at him. "Just drive!"

James hit the accelerator. "Where to?"

"Refugee center at the docking bay, I need to check on Kelly, make sure she's safe," said Shepard.

"Kelly Chambers?" asked James. "Word is Cerberus was asking around about her yesterday, but couldn't find her."

"Yea," said Shepard. "I made sure of that, but I still need to check in."

James dropped a level and sped through the traffic.

Shepard glanced around. "Where are my pants?"

James stabbed his thumb in the direction of the back seat. "In the tote bag."

Shepard sighed. "Great."

The bag wasn't easy to reach. Her broad shoulders wouldn't quite fit between the seats, so she had to pivot and squirm to get at the bag. By the time she could unzip it to search for the pants, her entire upper body was squeezed through the seat gap, leaving her lower torso literally kneeling ass backwards in the front. It was infuriating. Vega must have planned this, he had to have.

"You enjoying the view, James?" she asked.

"No, Ma'am," he replied. "My eyes are on the traffic. Your safety and dignity are my duty as an officer and gentleman.

"Uh, huh," she grunted.

Clutching the pants, she squirmed back out, scratching her ribs on a sharp piece of metal and pulling her tank half off. Before she'd fully extracted herself, and while she was in her most vulnerable position and couldn't strike out, Vega seized the opportunity.

He cleared his throat to get her attention. "That's a badass tattoo, Lola, I approve."

"Eyes on the traffic," she said.

Vega laughed. "No need, Lola, we're already parked."

Shepard finally got turned around. There were pedestrians outside the car. Several of them were staring.

"Dammit, James," she said.

"No worries, Lola. I flipped the glass tint to no-see. They're just curious about the nice ride," he said.

She pulled on the pair of pants, snapped them, and let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks James, for preserving my reputation. Is this your ride?" she asked.

"It is now," said James. "Won it from an arrogant Volus at the card table this morning. In fact, I'm late for the rematch. He thinks he's going to get it back, but no chance. I'm riding a lucky streak."

"Careful," said Shepard. "Lady Luck can turn on you."

James nodded. "Maybe, but today she's smiling, really smiling."

"Oh?" asked Shepard.

"I won the car, got the lock signed over, and not fifteen minutes later EDI contacts me to pick you up," said James.

"Lucky me," said Shepard.

"A real lucky day all around," said James.

The smile on his face kept getting wider.

"Get if off your chest, James," she said.

He grinned at her. "Culo hermoso!"

Shepard sighed. "Ok, LT, I'll let that one slide because you came to my rescue. But we never speak of this again, agreed?"

"Understood," said James.

She stretched after they exited the car, and glanced at the throng of people in customs. Her trips to the refugee center were rewarding, but often heartbreaking. There was no telling what the day would bring.

"Let's hope the rest of the day is less humiliating," said Shepard.

"Oh, come on, Lola, that's not even close to real humiliation," said James.

"Oh, you think you can top having to jump out of a hotel window in underpants that would make a stripper blush?" asked Shepard.

"Not even close. It was my twentieth birthday…" started James.

"Oh God," said Shepard. "Go find Garrus, because you're not dragging me into a 'top this' contest."

"No, just listen to the story and judge for yourself," said James.

The got into the security line.

"Make it short," said Shepard.

"I was dating this woman. Ria was her name, a real badass commando, an infiltrator, N7 rank just like you. Things were a little rocky, and I was still a kid, pretty immature, so I started seeing this other woman on the side. Suddenly, Ria seems interested in patching things up, says she wants to do something special for me on my birthday," said James.

"I can tell this isn't going to end well," said Shepard.

James continued. "So, she takes me back to her friend's place, this high end apartment on Terra Nova, you know, one of those swanky joints on the beach?"

"Saw it from a runaway rock once," said Shepard. "But never set foot on it."

"They're nice, that's the point," said James. "And spacious, so a little tequila, a little music, and we move it to the bedroom early in the tango, and she's asking me what's the one thing I always wanted to do, but never did, you know, in the sack."

"Please don't tell me," said Shepard.

"Not a chance," said James. "You'd think less of me, so anyway, I tell her, and she says she's willing to do it, but only if I wear something of hers during the act."

Shepard shook her head. "Here comes the setup."

James nodded. "So, I agree, I mean, I figure it makes it even kinkier, right? So we're in the bedroom, in the dark, getting funky, and she slips a pair stockings on me, but I'm down with it, totally secure in my manhood. In fact, I'm thinking, that's all? Considering what we're gonna do, it's all good."

"And she leaves the room…" said Shepard.

"Hey, it's my story!" said James.

"You said she was an infiltrator," said Shepard. "So she's an expert in setting up ambushes, did that not occur to you?"

"Oh, fuck no," said James. "I was twenty years old, all I was thinking about was my pene."

"So, she leaves the room, tells you to wait, then calls out to you a few minutes later to come take her on the kitchen table or something, right?" asked Shepard.

"You're ruining my story, Lola!" said James.

They paused for a minute at security check, but as soon as C-Sec recognized them, they were pushed through ahead of everyone else. As they passed the line, Shepard could feel the eyes on her back, hear the whispers, the hushed awe that made her so uncomfortable.

"Shepard, Shepard, Shepard, Commander Shepard," the name was murmured over and over, passing through the crowd like a breaker wave. She did her best to ignore it and focused on the conversation she was having.

"I just can't believe you fell for it," said Shepard.

"Hey, like I said, so I come out of the room, nothing on but the stockings…" said Vega.

Shepard guessed. "And your squad is out there thinking it's a surprise party?"

"Oh no, not just my squad," said James. "A lot of civilian friends too, and the girl I was seeing on the side. The worst part is, I couldn't tell in the dark, but the stockings were rosado."

"Red?" asked Shepard.

"Pink," said James. "Hot fucking pink."

Shepard burst out laughing. "Ok, you got me. That is pretty humiliating."

"Feel better, Lola?" asked James.

"Yea, a little bit," said Shepard.

"Then my job is done," said James.

They were near the boxes where several soldiers, merchants, and refugees were passing time. At any given table, you could find any type of card game in the galaxy. Permits were usually required to run a game on the Citadel, but C-Sec was letting it slide for obvious reasons.

James started to pick his way through the gamblers. "So, there's my table. Catch you later, Lola."

She called out to him. "Hey, Vega, is that story even true?"

He waived her off. "If we ever get a little closer, Lola, you can ask me again. I'll give you the uncensored version."

She shook her head and smiled, then made her way towards the heart of the docking bay.

* * *

It took her about forty minutes to find Kelly. She was clearing some boxes away from a large container. Shepard waved to get her attention. As soon as she did, Kelly ran over and embraced her.

"Shepard, you saved my life again," she said.

"What happened?" asked Shepard.

"Cerberus troopers came through here to secure the docks. They lined us all up. Then one of them started asking around for me by name," she said.

Shepard felt grateful. "But they didn't find you."

Kelly shook her head. "Their records said I went off-grid. If I hadn't changed my identity, I don't know what would have happened. Thank you."

Kelly squeezed tighter. They stood like that for a few minutes. It was nice. They locked eyes, and Kelly studied Shepard's face like she always did.

"You look like you've had a rough day," said Kelly.

Shepard grinned. "You could always read me right. Yea, long story."

Kelly ran her finger down Shepard's shoulder. "I have time. We can hang out a little bit, like old times. I was just clearing some boxes out of a little shelter I built. It's very private."

It sounded perfect, and under different circumstances she would have jumped at the chance. It was nice to feel so wanted. Shepard hesitated, trying to think of something to say. Kelly leaned her head against Shepard's chest.

She spoke softly. "I still think of those times in your cabin. I've missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Kelly," she answered.

It wasn't completely a lie, but Kelly sensed it wasn't all true either.

"You found someone," she said.

"Yea," said Shepard. "Well, Liara and I worked things out."

Kelly sighed. "I can't go back there, Shepard. I can't step foot on that ship again, and even if I did, I know I'd lose you anyway. I guess this is the way it's meant to be. You need a partner, someone who can be by your side and fight this war with you."

"I'm sorry, Kelly," said Shepard.

Kelly shook her head. "I'm not. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, but being with you wasn't one of them. You were so good to me."

Shepard smiled. "And you were good to me, really good."

Kelly giggled. "Are you talking about the outfit, or that other thing?"

"I have to be honest with you, Kelly," said Shepard. "I never liked the outfit."

Kelly stepped away. "What? But it was an Asari…"

"I never liked those Asari dancer outfits," said Shepard. "Always thought they were ridiculous. I like their dresses, but as far as lingerie I'm all about human fashion. Does that make me racist?"

Kelly rolled her eyes and groaned. "No, but it makes you an idiot. God, Shepard, you aren't supposed to say things like that, just lie to me and tell me you loved it."

"Oh," said Shepard.

Kelly shook her head, sighing. "You are such a guy. Honestly, you're more of a man cliché than any man I've ever known."

"Hey!" said Shepard. "I… ok, yea, you're probably right."

"Of course I am," said Kelly. "Now, go on, you still have one foot left to stick in your mouth."

"I'll pass," said Shepard. "Because the other thing you were talking about? I liked that. I really, really, really, liked that."

Kelly smirked. "Of course you did. That's always been my strong point in a relationship. As a trained psychologist, I've learned how to meet needs. It took a little work, but I had a lot of fun figuring out your deepest desires."

"Not as much fun as I did," said Shepard.

"Oh, Shepard," said Kelly. "You…"

Shepard scratched her head. "I know. I've got a dirty mind. Lucky for me, it's not public knowledge."

Kelly reassured her. "Shepard, don't worry. That will always stay a secret between us."

Shepard nodded, then pressed her forehead against Kelly's.

"I shouldn't come here again," she said. "In a moment of weakness, I…"

Kelly closed her eyes. "I understand, it's best for both of us if we don't complicate our lives any further. You have a war to win, and I have people who need me here. But whatever happens, Shepard, know that I'm thinking of you, always."

They shook hands as friends and parted. Shepard turned her back to Kelly Chambers and walked away. Somehow she knew she'd never see her again.

* * *

The rest of the day blew by in a whirlwind. By the time she returned to the Normandy, she'd managed to warn Miranda about Kai Leng, talk a veteran out of doing something stupid, procure important Dark Energy research from the most unlikely person in the galaxy, hunt down a terrorist, put a stop to his activities, and somehow kept her head clear enough to bargain with him. Instead of pulling his arms off and beating him to death with the bloody stumps, she'd talked him into pledging the remainder of the Batarian fleet to the war effort. They'd be there for Earth.

That was a miracle, but her final action of the day was the most satisfying. Ash was back where she belonged, on the Normandy. It was going to complicate things a little bit, especially with Liara, but Shepard couldn't help herself. She couldn't' let Ash drift away again, couldn't risk losing her.

Garrus was less than pleased with Shepard for what had happened the previous day. He questioned her judgement. He felt that she should never have lowered her weapon and trusted Ashley to make the right decision. Tactically speaking, he was correct, but what he still didn't understand was importance of her faith in those closest to her, and not just blind faith, but faith that had been built by work.

Shepard had taken care of Ashley, mended the fences, and spent time with her. If she hadn't re-forged the bond, then no, she would never have lowered her weapon. She tried to explain it to Garrus, but he still had a ways to go. What happened on Omega had scarred him. He'd get there, eventually, but it would take time. Hopefully, they had enough of it left.

Garrus questioned the notion. " _But what if she hadn't made the right call?"_

" _Then you would have put her down_ ," said Shepard. " _Don't tell me you weren't a hair trigger away from doing it. That's the thing, Garrus. I had faith in her to make the right call, but I also had faith in you to back me up if she didn't. That's the reward for surrounding yourself with and investing in the right people."_

" _It didn't work out so well for me,"_ he replied.

" _Only because you didn't have time or planning. Omega was a bootleg operation, and if you had to do it over again, it'd be different. You'd have more backing, go in with a few key known quantities, and so on,_ " said Shepard.

" _You make it sound so easy,_ " said Garrus.

" _I never claimed there was anything easy about it,"_ said Shepard.

The Turian ended the conversation with a heavy sigh. Shepard would wait, and then follow up again soon. This was the work she talked about. With the foot soldier, it was always enough just to expect them to do exactly as you say, but with officers and squad members it was a constant mentoring process. You had to disseminate your methods so that they began to parrot and imitate you. The most important aspect of that, is that your crew would understand how to work together instinctively when lines of communication were difficult or impossible to maintain.

' _We all do as we think we all would do,_ ' was her battlefield mantra.

It worked, often to perfection. It was the only reason they were all still alive. They'd survived impossible situations and unexpected odds, from sneak attacks to suicide runs. They'd done it all, and Shepard believed, truly believed, they'd win again, and again, and they'd finish what no other cycle had ever been able to pull off. And if she faltered? Then one of her team would make her believe again.

Shepard stepped out of the shower and dressed. She had a few hours left and she planned to use them wisely. She called down to Liara's room.

" _Shepard,_ " came the reply.

Shepard's heart warmed at the sound of the Asari's voice.

"So, I've got a bottle of wine here, and a couple hours to spend with my best girl. Have you finished your little project?"

The reply was less than enthusiastic.

" _Shepard, I'm so sorry, but I got caught up in something else,_ " said Liara.

Shepard was crestfallen. "Liara, you promised!"

Liara retorted with an air of exasperation. " _Shepard, there's a situation on Trident, an old underwater base that the Krogan built in secret. Wrex just gave me the access codes and schematics. The Reapers might not be aware of it, and moving people there is a sound strategy. They could hold out for years, perhaps a decade. I have to facilitate this and direct agents to the right authorities on Trident. It's difficult when you factor in the presence of indoctrinated officials. It will take me the better part of the night to get this moving forward._ "

"Liara, we never…"

Liara snapped. " _What do you want me to do? Let thousands of people die so I can satisfy your sexual urges?_ "

"That was uncalled for," said Shepard.

" _Shepard…_ "

She cut the com link and flopped into her chair.

"Dammit," she said.

The real bitch of the problem was that Liara was right. Shepard was angrier with herself than she was with Liara. What was she thinking? Trying to figure out a relationship in the middle of Armageddon wasn't one of the smartest plays she'd ever made. What she needed was to blow off steam and move on. That's how she'd always managed to be the soldier and officer that everyone expected. She kept her baggage light, and tossed it away when it slowed her down.

After she was through feeling sorry for herself, she spent an hour reading her correspondence. At least there was plenty to occupy her. She had to sign off on a settlement with the hotel. Shit, who knew hotel windows were so expensive? There was a note from Aria. She wanted to meet. It sounded ominous. There was also a mail marked 'Game Night' from her Com Specialist. This sounded much more intriguing. A night of chess was it? Shepard had a hunch there was more to it than that. She used her intercom to invite Traynor up.

Samantha Traynor strolled into Shepard's cabin a half an hour later. She started remarking on the space, as if it were some sort of surprise and she'd never seen it before. Shepard smiled. Did Traynor not even remember giving her Commander a tour of the re-fitted Normandy? Traynor moved around the room, eventually stopping to comment on the shower.

"An actual shower? The faucets in the women's bathroom are crap, by the way," she said.

Did she know how obvious she was being? Shepard let her swim in dead air.

Traynor tried to recover. "In any event… I thought you might be in the mood to play."

"Chess?" asked Shepard.

Traynor was in recovery mode. "I bought a board on the Citadel. GUI interface, not really as much fun as real pieces… but I hoped you might give me some pointers."

This was too easy. Shepard couldn't help but test the water.

She made an offer. "That's funny, I thought you'd be more interested in the shower."

Traynor bit. "I didn't realize that was an option."

Shepard moved in close to establish dominance. "It's an option."

Traynor fidgeted nervously. "Well… just give me a moment to grab my things…"

The Specialist hurried out of the room. Shepard wondered if she would lose her nerve on the way to her footlocker. Then again, she was making a move on her Commander despite knowing that Shepard was in a relationship with one of the most powerful and dangerous women in the galaxy. That took real chutzpah. Perhaps the Specialist had a little more play than Shepard gave her credit for.

Shepard took a seat in a chair. Just as she was about to write the woman off, the door opened and Traynor was back. She made her herself openly available, stripping her clothes off in front of Shepard before she even entered the bathroom. Shepard didn't bite. The Specialist was going to have to work harder than that. Still, it was another bold move, one that Shepard appreciated. If she was single, it'd be on already.

It wasn't long into the shower that Traynor started chattering again. "Hot water and room to stretch. I could get lost in here. Mmm… oh, it's like a weeks' worth of stress is washing off."

Shepard could sense it coming.

"And the timing is perfect. I was hoping to look nice for someone," she said.

' _What are you doing, Joss? Are you going to throw it all away because your pride is hurt? Are you going to go back to being as unhappy as you used to be?_ ' she asked herself.

Time slowed down. "Hot date lined up?"

"Hopefully more than just that. I play for keeps," said Traynor.

Shepard pumped the brakes. Traynor had chosen the exact wrong words. It made her think of Liara all over again.

"Sounds serious," said Shepard.

"I think that depends on whether she's interested," said Traynor.

Shepard thought about it. She'd never turned down an attractive woman in her entire life. Hell, she'd never turned down any woman, and now it was twice in one day, but she realized it wasn't enough anymore. She couldn't make another fake promise, not one more. There was only one thing that could make her happy and this wasn't it.

She decided to shoot Traynor down by playing dumb. "Well good luck, holler if you need anything."

Traynor flapped around the shower like a wet duck. "Oh, will do. Thanks again, Shepard!"

' _Nice recovery,_ ' thought Shepard.

At least there would be no storming out, no need for damage control.

Shepard made sure to assert her generosity so that Traynor would never know how close she was.

"No problem, take as long as you like," she said.

She eased back in her chair to portray confidence in her decision. There was no temptation. There never had been.

Traynor bought it. "And don't think this saves you from our chess match. Just give me a minute to dry my hair."

' _Well played, Samantha. Recover and re-establish the friendship_ ,' thought Shepard.

She had no doubt that Traynor was an excellent chess player. The best course of action was not only to lose the chess match, but lose badly and hope that Traynor didn't poke around the extranet after the fact. If she did, she'd find out that Shepard had one of the highest tactical simulation ratings in Alliance history. In fact, her tactical rating in Alliance Officer Training was only surpassed by a former General named Petrovsky.

Shepard sighed. Why had Petrovsky popped into her head? That usually wasn't a good sign. Whenever she thought of someone she hadn't considered in some time, the person was bound to show up in her life within the next week. It was strange how the human mind seemed nearly capable of precognition even though science had long since disproved the possibility. Yet, it still happened.

Life had foreshadowing. Anyone who'd ever lived through the impossible understood and accepted it as fact. Which meant, that the stage was set for Petrovsky to make an appearance. Considering the man had joined Cerberus some years earlier, this didn't bode well for Shepard.

Traynor produced the chess board and Shepard let the next hour play out the way she wanted. She was careful to disguise her play so that it looked amateurish. Judging by the satisfied look on Traynor's face when she finally left the cabin, Shepard had achieved her goal. She followed up by doing an interview with Diana Allers which presented nearly as much temptation as the situation with Traynor.

What the hell was going on? It seemed as if every one of her associates had decided to make a play for her today. Her only solace was that Ashley was as oblivious to Shepard as ever. She ran into Ashley on her way to engineering. It was brief, courteous, but the Lt. Commander was strictly duty focused. She was acclimating to her new situation, getting to know the new squad members, especially Vega.

Like clockwork, it was Vega who showed up next. The LT was growing on her, and thus a relationship that would normally have been without temptation proved to be at least a little bit intriguing. There was a part of her that was wildly attracted to the man, albeit a small part that centered on the bait he'd set out earlier that day.

When it was all said and done, she found herself alone in her cabin, well past her bedtime, but unable to sleep. She paced about, checked her correspondence again, and thought about disturbing Liara. No, no, it was best not to act too desperate. And so, late in the night, she found herself at the QEC, dialing up Anderson.

She got lucky and caught her former CO in a similar situation, on his sleep schedule, but unable to get a single wink.

He was nearly enthusiastic when she established contact.

" _Shepard!_ " he said. " _Anything new to report, Commander?_ "

"Just wanted to check in," said Shepard.

" _Right,_ " said Anderson. " _Can't sleep either?_ "

"Hell no," said Shepard.

The old man laughed. " _It's the perils of command. The whole galaxy is on our shoulders. Makes it hard for the mind to wind down._ "

"Next to impossible," said Shepard.

" _Sometimes, the right person can make it better,_ " said Anderson.

"Yea," said Shepard. "But that's always been a problem for me."

" _I know,_ " said Anderson. " _That's why I guessed that command would suit you. Restless people like you and I need room to roam, and the only place that can really settle us is the deck of a ship that wanders an expanse. Ever notice that you sleep better when the Normandy is on the move?_ "

Now that Shepard thought about it, he was right. As soon as the Normandy docked, the insomnia seemed to set in, but when they were off to a destination she could always manage a few winks.

She nodded. "Yea, I think you're right."

Anderson mused. " _I suppose it makes us feel less empty. I envy you right now. Being landlocked like I am, well, it makes it that much harder._ "

"This restless thing, is that why it didn't work out between you and Sanders?" asked Shepard.

Anderson chuckled. " _It has something to do with it, along with other mistakes I made. Granted, I was never the run around that you are, Shepard. I'm not as pretty. Couldn't get away with it._ "

Shepard laughed. "Ah, come on, you're a handsome old dodger."

" _That's not very convincing, Commander,_ " said Anderson. " _Back to your question, though, it was more than that, but Shepard, I regret it._ "

"That you didn't settle down?" she asked.

" _A person needs roots,_ " said Anderson. " _Because eventually it all stops, and your career winds down, even reverses. That's when you need good soil, a place with sun and shade that will allow you to grow again when you're no longer moving._ "

"I'm not entirely sure I get the metaphor, Sir," she said.

He shook his head. " _There's a lot I regret, Shepard, and it was catching up to me. Funny thing is, and this may sound strange, but this war? It was actually a reprieve. It gave me purpose again, and a chance to think about things. If I manage to live through this, you can bet I don't make the same mistake again, and neither should you, Commander. Find yourself some good soil and put roots in it. That's an order!_ "

"Yes, Sir," said Shepard.

She thought about Anderson, the situation he was in. Each time they talked could be the last. She wanted to be clear with him.

"Anderson," she said.

" _Yes, Shepard,_ " he answered.

She referenced something that happened many years ago. "You're the only one who really knows. You were there on Omega, you and Alenko."

" _Shepard, that's ancient history. You're not that angry girl anymore,_ " he said.

She nodded. "I know, but it's just… have I ever told you about my father?"

Anderson shook his head. " _No, Shepard, and there's a reason I never asked._ "

"What was your father like?" asked Shepard.

" _He was a decent man,_ " said Anderson. " _Though we never saw eye to eye, as is usually the case with fathers and sons._ "

"My father wasn't decent," said Shepard. "I used to make excuses because I loved him. He was dad, after all, but the truth was he was no damned good."

" _Sorry about that, Shepard_ ," said Anderson.

"That's why I brought up Omega, what happened there," said Shepard.

Anderson nodded. " _I know, the thirst for vengeance is always strongest when someone takes away your chance to make it right._ "

He understood. Of course he did. Anderson always got her. Shepard felt grateful.

"You're a good man, and a good example," said Shepard. "Thank you."

Anderson shook his head, faked rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and then yawned to sell it.

" _We should at least try to get some shuteye. Don't get too soft on me, Commander, we've got a war to fight here,_ " said Anderson.

"Aye, aye, Sir," said Shepard.

They saluted each other before cutting the link.

As Shepard turned and made her way out of the war room, she noticed that her com light was blinking. It was an official communication from the Shadow Broker to Commander Shepard. She sighed, frustrated. Liara must be really mad at her if she was going so far as to communicate through titles only. Her eyes were too tired to read the message on her Omni-tool, so she decided to take the elevator to her cabin.

As she approached the entrance to the CIC, she heard the crew conversing with Traynor. They were peppering her with questions. The guards at the security scanner announced her loudly, as they always did, and the crew chatter immediately evaporated. By the time Shepard passed Traynor, the Com Specialist was blushing.

Shepard smiled at Traynor as she walked on by, putting just the right touch of honey on her tone. She also made sure to address her by her first name.

"Samantha," she said.

Traynor looked as if she wanted to crawl under her station. Shepard smirked as the elevator doors closed. She imagined the CIC erupted as soon as the crew was sure she couldn't hear. Poor Traynor would spend the next few days trying to squash rumors. It served her right. If she was bold enough to try to seduce her CO, she had to be willing to deal with the fallout.

Shepard shook her head. Now it was her turn to deal with fallout. She looked at the display on her Omni-tool again. A message to Commander Shepard from the Shadow Broker. It was marked urgent. Shepard dreaded opening it.

She entered her cabin, approached the haptic display, and took a deep breath.

* * *

 **To Be Continued (True Blue Part II)**


	37. True Blue: Part II (Asari Love Slave)

_A quick stroll through the history of all time great leaders, composers, artists and the like (People such as Alexander the Great, Mozart, Beethoven, Michelangelo, and in our modern age - performers like Prince and Michael Jackson, John Lennon, et) reveals that behind almost every world changing personality, is an over-restrictive parent who skirts the line between love, obsession, and abuse. Reading about how Leonidas stripped Alexander's room bare and whipped him for every minute failure, or how Beethoven's father would wake him up in the middle of the night screaming at him to practice... makes me kind of glad my parents were fine with more modest goals. Ha!_

 _Oh, main scene of this chapter? Liara and Femshep goodness. :)_

* * *

 _You're running with me  
Don't touch the ground  
We're the restless hearted  
Not the chained and bound_

 _The sky is burning  
A sea of flame  
Though your world is changing  
I will be the same_

 _Slave to love_

 _Can you help me?_

 _I can't escape_

 _I'm a slave to love_

Bryan Ferry

December 14th, 2186

 **Josslyn E. Shepard**

* * *

Shepard's eyes were tired. She went back to her cabin so she could read the message from Liara on her full sized haptic display. It seemed to be a business contract, reparations of some kind. There was a reference link to Asari history which Shepard followed up on.

It was a detailed entry on ancient Thessia. She'd read some of this before. It was astonishing to think that the Asari were every bit as brutal as humanity at one time in their history. Ok, considering what she'd seen on Ilium, perhaps it wasn't that surprising at all. Underneath all those pretty clothes and eloquent ideals, the Asari weren't any less cutthroat than the Krogan, Turians, or Humans.

Their entire civilization was based on city states, and thus in their past there were many wars fought, slaves taken, and worse. In fact, slavery was such a predominate part of Asari history, that many still practiced it, though in a more sophisticated and modern venue. It made sense. It was a sad truth that females of all races seemed to enjoy putting other females under heel, even more than males. Still, Shepard found it completely distasteful. She had to deal with some of this so-called civilized slavery on Ilium before and it left a bad taste in her mouth. Why would Liara send her this?

The entry went on, a list of ancient practices, rules for slaves to follow, and so on. It was despicable stuff, mostly centered on the worst of Asari culture: sexual slavery and mind rape, and other less than savory topics. God, was Liara trying to explain to Shepard that she felt like her slave? Shepard slumped into her chair, defeated.

The talk she had with Anderson had put her feelings into focus. Shepard knew what she wanted for the first time in her life. She felt she'd finally gotten it right, was ready to move forward and commit to the woman she loved, and now this? Had she already blown it before she had a chance to make it right?

She read the rest of the entry. The Shadow Broker requested that Shepard make a pickup from a warehouse on the Citadel. She figured it must have something to do with Liara's mission on Trident. The warehouses in that district were infamous for smugglers and illegal military tech. In fact, the location was quite near the place she and Garrus had cornered Harkin just a year ago.

The directions were clear. Commander Shepard was to come alone and make contact with a Volus smuggler named Dar-Jor. Apparently Dar-Jor was in possession of property that would help the war effort. Shepard checked the access codes with EDI through her Omni-tool to make sure. They were Liara's so they were legit.

She also followed up on the Volus contact. Dar-Jor had a history of criminal activity. He was notorious for peddling slaves in the Terminus Systems. What was Liara thinking? Shepard couldn't believe it, but then again, considering how many hoops she was jumping through for Aria, she was in no position to judge.

The business was marked as urgent and the time stamp indicated she had little time to waste. She called down to Vega, unfortunately waking him from his rack time, but he'd get over it. The man always slept like a rock.

"Hey, James, still have that car?" she asked.

He grumbled. "Shit, no, that little bastard won it back from me."

"James!" said Shepard.

"I know, I know," he said. "Why do you ask?"

"Forget about it," she said. "Get back to sleep, LT."

The com link went off immediately. He was probably already unconscious again. Shepard smiled. It must be nice.

She hit her com link again.

"Cortez," she said. "Fire up the shuttle. I have to make a stealth run."

"On it, Ma'am," he replied.

Fifteen minutes later, Cortez dropped her off at the warehouse. She waved him away, said she'd be in touch if she needed him. Under normal circumstances she'd never come to a place like this alone, but it was the Shadow Broker's request, and Shepard trusted that no matter how angry Liara was with her, she'd never put her Commander in danger.

The door to the warehouse unlocked for her, inside was a Volus holding a data pad. He was acting nervous. His respirator was hissing and clunking faster than usual.

"Were you followed?" he asked.

"No," said Shepard.

"Good," he said.

"You're Dar-Jor? I'm here for a package," said Shepard.

The little Volus bobbed his head and handed her the data pad. "I've received payment already. These are your instructions. It would be best if I moved on. This kind of merchandise can get you thirty cycles in prison on the Citadel."

"Uh, what kind of merchandise is that?" she asked.

The Volus was excitable. He glanced about and leaned forward, his respirator hissing slowly.

"An Asari slave," he whispered. "Very rare, very illegal. My respect, Commander."

What in the hell had Liara gotten her into? A hundred scenarios ran through Shepard's mind. None of them were good. She tried to calm herself. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation, perhaps Liara had purchased this slave's freedom. Perhaps she had information that was important to the war effort.

The Volus got her attention. He wanted to make something clear.

"The Shadow Broker was absolutely insistent that you sign the contract before taking delivery," he said.

Shepard shook her head in disbelief. "What?"

Dar-Jor adjusted his Omni-tool to receive her electronic signature. Shepard signed, trusting that Liara knew what she was doing. If this went wrong, and information got out that she'd purchased an illegal slave, she'd pine for the day when the biggest dent in her reputation involved running bare assed through a hotel lobby.

After Dar-Jor collected her signature, he scurried out the door towards his transportation. Shepard was left alone. She opened the instruction pad and began reading. It was a text written in ancient Asari script that had fallen out of use several millennia ago. It required the translator mod on her Omni-tool. It also included dozens of extremely graphic illustrations of sexual activity which reminded her of the Kama Sutra of her own world.

As soon as the translator was finished. She read the title script, which roughly translated to: Instructions for the care and maintenance of your personal Drakizia.

She punched the translator again. It came out the same. Apparently there was some problem with the word Drakizia. She used the extranet connection on her tool to find an external source. What followed was several historical references to a diabolical Asari Queen. It seemed she was some sort of Asari version of Genghis Kahn, and based on the few entries she could find, there was no doubt in Shepard's mind that this conquering queen was an Ardat-Yakshi.

Samara had once told Shepard that Ardat-Yakshi were revered in ancient days by primitive Asari. Shepard had done some study on her own and learned that the Justicar Order was originally created to oppose them, eventually breaking their hold and freeing the various city states from their unjust rule. This led to a golden age of democracy, technology, and the ascent of the Asari race into the heavens.

However, as near as Shepard could tell, the word Drakizia was not the name of the queen, but rather her special slaves. Each of them was trained to serve her master in all things, and they were given as gifts to entice other queens into alliances. It occurred to Shepard that the Drakizia were sex slaves, or something similar to a concubine or harem girl.

She started reading the rules for care of her "Drakizia" and had to stop. It was thoroughly revolting. This had to be a terrible mistake, either that or it was a metaphor or code for some technology that the Shadow Broker was trying to hide. It was logical to smuggle something in under false pretenses since any indoctrinated agent would overlook slavery, especially something of this nature. The Reapers understood nothing of organic motivation, love and sexual attraction being chief among those disregarded motivators.

Now that she thought about it, it made perfect sense. Shepard had just started to calm down when she read the final note attached at the end of the document.

 _In Thessia's ancient past, a Drakizia was often given as a gift to appease a barbaric warlord, so please accept this peace offering. Use her as you will to fulfill your darkest desires. She will answer only to the name Drakizia, or "slave" if you prefer. This is non-negotiable. If you do not accept the gift and use it as intended, our future interactions will be extremely limited and there will be further recourse against you._

 _Do not try to use subterfuge to circumnavigate the situation. The slave will know if she is not fulfilling your needs. She has received detailed instructions based on information the Shadow Broker has procured. The Shadow Broker is now privy to most, if not all of your darkest fantasies, including things you've never shared with anyone before. Many of your liaisons have been witnessed, and even recorded. The Shadow Broker possesses all of this data. If you breach this contract, the data will become public knowledge and your reputation will be permanently damaged._

 _Your assumption that your girlfriend is naïve, innocent, and inexperienced, is not unjust. As I understand it, you were acting according to an ancient human custom called chivalry, trying to protect her from your sadistic sexual barbarism by only making love to her in a respectful way. This is why it is only just to enact ancient Asari customs in response. If one insists upon living in the past, then it should be equitable to ensure that the relationship agreement is free of hypocrisy. Upon reading this, you have approximately ten minutes to take possession of your property. You have six hours to fulfill your contract. If you do not, the contract will be considered in breach and the aforementioned punitive actions will be enacted. You have no choice in this matter._

 _SB_

Shepard's mouth dropped open. This wasn't some code or metaphor, this was real. There was no other interpretation. Liara was blackmailing her! Shepard shook her head in disbelief. What had happened to the naïve archeologist she'd rescued on Therum? Had Liara completely lost her mind?

' _You happened, you idiot_ ,' thought Shepard. ' _Look at what you've done to her, this is all your fault._ '

Apparently, she'd hurt Liara so deeply, that the Asari felt justified in taking extreme action. It was unconscionable, diabolical. This whole Shadow Broker thing had gotten out of control. It had gone to her head. She wasn't just acting as the Shadow Broker, she had truly become the Shadow Broker.

Had Liara fallen so far that she was willing to follow up on these threats? Shepard had heard horror stories about how certain Asari could be vindictive after a love affair gone wrong, but she had always assumed they were exaggerations based on the actions of a minority, individuals like Nassana Dantius for example. She thought about the threat against her reputation, tried to imagine what would happen if Liara leaked that data. She felt sick to her stomach.

Shepard gritted her teeth. Considering what had happened to he friends and family on Mindoir at the hands of Batarian slavers, forcing a slave on her was the worst kind of insult Liara could have come up with. Indignation became anger, and rage. Shepard tossed the agreement aside and stormed into the warehouse, fully intent on shooting her way through the Shadow Broker's agents if it came to it.

What greeted her was not a score of agents, but something completely unexpected. The inside of the warehouse had been transformed into… Shepard struggled to take in what she saw. A blast of warm, humid air, filled with perfumed scents hit her in the face.

The lights dimmed as soon as she entered. There was sand on the floor, and tents in place of cargo containers. Amidst the tents several braziers were alight with blue flames which illuminated various erotic statues and tapestries. A smoky haze filled the air as the smell of pungent incense penetrated her nostrils. It looked like a scene straight out of Greek mythology, though in reality the setting was probably Thessian, perhaps the Asari equivalent of the Bronze Age.

The walls of the warehouse flickered, coming to life in the form of lurid holographic imagery. As the music pulsed, writhing Asari performed various sexual acts. Shepard felt as if she were surrounded by Maenads lost in the ecstatic frenzy of ritual worship, their chorus of sin thrumming through the air in offering to the god Dionysus.

Shepard couldn't deny the effectiveness of the scene. It put her in a strange mood. The imagery was very much to her liking, as was the primal rhythm of the music. She could sense Liara's hand in this. It was the type of scene that only a student of antiquity could dream up. It must have taken some effort to put this all together in such a short amount of time. Shepard's anger abated as her curiosity was invoked.

Shepard found a distinct path twining through the center of the scene and followed it. It led to a stone table, or perhaps an altar. Upon it was a statue of a beautiful Asari. Her azure flesh was oiled and almost completely bare. She wore only a decadent harness fashioned of silver chains and precious gemstones. She was collared and leashed. Shepard was hypnotized by the figure. She felt compelled to examine it. As she approached, she realized it was no statue at all, but a living, breathing Asari slave, no doubt the very soul she had unwittingly purchased.

Her anger had completely evaporated by this point. Whether it had something to do with the incense, the imagery, or the evocative music, she wasn't sure, but the temptation to claim her prize was all too real. Shepard tried to shake it off and get her bearings. As she drew near, the slave prostrated herself to the Commander, placing her face on the ground. With one hand she held the end of her leash aloft, inviting Shepard to take it.

Shepard took a deep breath. "Oh, shit."

Liara had gotten it right. She'd done her homework. Everything was perfect. It occurred to Shepard that this was nothing short of a live action mélange of the best chapters of her favorite romance novels. Even the holographic displays of Asari gyrating on the walls were tailored specifically to her tastes. She stared at the end of the leash. Her hand trembled. She took it. What the hell was she doing?

Kneeling down, she put her hand on the side of the Asari's head to tilt it towards her so she could get a good look at the woman. Once she saw the torment in those eye's she'd become a person again and Shepard could break the spell. Then she'd get her out of here to someplace safe and deal with all the blowback. The very real fear of losing Liara was starting to play out in her head.

It was then that the slave's eyes met Shepard's and everything fell into place. It was Liara. Of course it was, it had to be. Shepard chastised herself. How could she be so stupid? She should have seen it coming from a parsec away. Liara, her Liara, buying some poor slave, what a ridiculous notion.

Before Shepard could speak, a single word slipped seductively out of Liara's lips.

"Master," she said.

Shepard felt a thrill run up her spine. A bead of sweat dripped off her forehead. Damn, the temperature in the warehouse kept climbing.

She blushed. "Ok, point made, Liara. I guess we need to talk."

Liara cut her off. She shook her head vigorously. "No! Drakizia…"

Shepard sighed. "Really, let's be serious here. The gig's up, nice joke, ha ha! You got me. Who put you up to this? Jack? Vega?"

Liara's eyes filled with tears. She hung her head in shame.

"I am not pleasing to my master," she whined.

It was an effective piece of acting. Shepard very much felt the impact of it, even as she tried to rationalize it away. Ok, if Liara wanted to play games, why not test the waters?

' _Let's see how far she's actually willing to take this,_ ' thought Shepard.

She jerked on the chain, pulling Liara's head up.

"Ok, _slave_ ," she said. "You really want to play this fantasy out, you may get more than you bargained for."

Liara's eyes glinted with something Shepard had never seen before. She couldn't tell if it was malice or lust, but it was a little bit frightening.

"I am Drakizia," she said. "There is nothing you can do to me in the next six hours that I won't enjoy. It's what I've been trained for. I exist only for your pleasure."

Shepard felt a rush of desire. She glanced around at the setting, and then fell into the fantasy. Her mind burned red. She was a child again, running on the grass, the scent of fresh colonial air in her nostrils. Her father was angry with her. He was always angry with her, always disappointed.

" _Stop running your mouth for once._ "

" _Act like a young lady._ "

" _You're too aggressive."_

" _You're not a boy, stop acting like one."_

" _You want another whipping?"_

" _You're full of sin, child, sin and disobedience._ "

" _Why do you refuse to obey me?_ "

" _No, you can't put your clothes back on until I say so."_

" _Fighting, in school? What were you thinking?_ "

" _You're just begging for the switch, aren't you?_ "

" _You'll wear a dress because I say so!_ "

" _Stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about._ "

" _You can't hit other children, it's not allowed._ "

" _Shame on you, shame, shame, shame._ "

" _You've had this coming._ "

" _Another fight in school?_ "

" _Drop your drawers and bend over."_

" _I'm only doing this for your own good, because I love you."_

" _You're a bad girl, Joss. I'm ashamed of you."_

" _Stop testing me."_

" _You'll thank me for this one day."_

Her head swarmed with crazy thoughts. She had to get them out, purge them, expel them all in a sweet symphony of indulgence. For once she was free of shame. Her partner, far from being frightened, was completely engrossed in the interaction, uttering ecstatic phrases that lured Shepard into a frenzy of excess. Her mind raced through a hundred walls of desire as she thought about everything she wanted to do to her subordinate. Six hours wasn't nearly enough time.

The hours passed, ebbing away in a turgid mist of pleasure and release until she was utterly spent, both body and soul. They did it all, all the things she never dreamed possible. She shared parts of herself that had been locked away behind walls of steel, and now that it was all out, she felt light as a feather. Unfortunately, she didn't float far. A beep on an Omni-tool brought her back to reality. She dropped like a rock.

As she lay entwined with her lover, she began to weep. Liara clung to her tightly, kissing her face.

"Are you ok?" asked Liara.

"No," said Shepard. "Sometimes I feel like such a freak."

"No, you're not, but you are silly," said Liara.

Shepard laughed through the tears. "Silly, is it? You're not the least bit weirded out by me after all of that?"

Liara giggled. "You are so human. Assuming you can shock an Asari with your sexual appetite is like believing you can intimidate a Krogan with an act of extreme violence. It doesn't work."

Shepard nodded. "Yea, I think the Turians found that out the hard way during the Krogan Rebellions."

"And now you know," said Liara.

Shepard turned to Liara. "Know what?"

"You can't win at this. There are no boundaries between us," said Liara. "You should never feel ashamed of who you are or what you desire. Please don't try to hide it from me again. You can trust me with your most intimate thoughts, Shepard. That's what love is."

Shepard struggled. "I didn't want you to see me as…"

"A sexual being? A perfectly healthy, vigorous, and giving lover with a big heart? There is nothing wrong with your desires or fantasies. What happened here was wonderful, and I quite enjoyed it. I wish I had known sooner than this was all that you were hiding. Far from being strange, you are more of a pure romantic than you give yourself credit for," said Liara.

"You're distorting the picture to make me sound better than I am," said Shepard.

"No, I have a realistic view of you. It is you who are distorting. You are so driven, such a perfectionist that you criticize everything about yourself, even your sexuality," explained Liara.

"So, you're not angry with me?" asked Shepard.

"I'm angry with myself," said Liara. "We should have talked about it instead of avoiding it for so long."

"Ugh, I hate talking through things," said Shepard.

"So I noticed," said Liara. "But you're going to have to meet me halfway in the future. We can't go on like we have been."

"I don't want to," said Shepard. "I want to move forward."

"Oh?" asked Liara.

Shepard stared into Liara's eyes. "Yes, forward, with you. There's no one else for me, not anymore."

"That is good to hear," said Liara. "I am not quite as sheltered as I was when we first met. I have seen many things, done things I never imagined I would do. I lost you, and I endured, but I would rather not lose you again."

"I can't control that completely, Liara," said Shepard.

Liara sighed. "I know, but I…"

Liara's eyes began to fill with tears.

Shepard changed the subject. "I just can't believe you did all of this. How did you pull it off?"

She waved her hand, indicating all the props around them.

"Well, fortunately there are several Asari Theater Companies on the Citadel," said Liara. "It was easy enough to find props on short notice. Many of Matriarch Odessa's most famous plays are set in this time period."

"Oh, Matriarch Odessa, yes. I've read some of her stuff," said Shepard. "She's like the Asari version of Shakespeare, only with a touch more eroticism."

Liara rolled her eyes. "Shepard! You have it backwards. Odessa predates Shakespeare by several millennia."

"Of course she does, right," said Shepard. "You got me."

"I'll always get you," said Liara. "And I'm not letting go of you, not again."

Shepard exhaled. "Please don't. I'd be lost without you."

Liara agreed. "Yes, you would."

"How did you know?" asked Shepard. "All of this I mean. Of course, the books I read, but did you search my extranet history?"

"I have my resources," said Liara. "Kelly Chambers was quite forthcoming."

Shepard groaned in frustration. "Why did I know you were going to say that? You've been following me, haven't you?"

"It's not like that," said Liara. "I'm concerned for your safety. There could still be Cerberus sleeper agents on the Citadel. I am not going to leave the fate of the galaxy to chance, not when one sniper's bullet could put an end to it all."

"So you're always watching me," said Shepard.

"Does that upset you?" asked Liara.

"It would if I wasn't so thoroughly in love with you," said Shepard.

Liara face turned a deeper shade of blue. "You flatter me."

"That's the idea," said Shepard.

She placed her hand on Liara's cheek, caressing it.

"I'm serious, though. I love you, Liara T'Soni, with all my heart," she proclaimed.

Liara's eyes darted about, searching Shepard's face.

"And I love you," she answered.

"But…" Liara continued. "We are out of time. We should dress. I need to get back to the Normandy and check on Feron's progress with the Trident situation, and you have an appointment with Aria in an hour."

Shepard set her palm on her forehead. "Oh, I forgot, Trident. Please don't tell me what this cost in lives."

"Feron has handled it well, and I should never have said that," said Liara. "Considering all that you have sacrificed, that was cruel. Can you ever forgive me?"

"If you'll forgive me," said Shepard.

Liara sighed. "And now I want to stay here longer."

Shepard smiled mischievously. "Well, one day, maybe we can do this again?"

Liara acted coy. "Yes, I would like that, but fair warning…"

Shepard cocked an eyebrow. "About what?"

"I'm not always going to want to play the same role," said Liara.

"Ooh, I see. Turnabout is fair play," said Shepard.

"Why do humans have so many strange idioms?" asked Liara.

Shepard shrugged. "So we don't always have to think through what we say?"

"In that case, it's a wonder you don't use them all the time, Shepard," said Liara.

"Hey!" said Shepard.

Liara snickered.

It took them some time to dress, loathe as they were to leave their sanctuary of passion, but soon they stood outside in the cool, recycled air of the Citadel Factory District. Instead of calling for transportation, they walked arm in arm to the elevators, exchanging glances and stealing kisses as they went.

"I have never seen you smile like this before," said Liara.

"I've never felt so happy," said Shepard. "I feel… whole, for the first time in my life."

* * *

" _Shepard Commander, are you prepared?_ "

" _Not really."_

" _Query?"_

" _I'd like to take a stroll through that memory one more time."_

" _Our processing capacity is limited. It would be unwise."_

" _Of course. Just make sure I never lose it."_

" _All your memories have been put into subatomic storage with triple redundancy. There will be minimal loss, providing our plan succeeds."_

" _Ok, then maybe, double triple store it, or do whatever you have to do so there isn't a chance in hell I ever lose it."_

" _Complying."_

" _Thank you."_

" _Shepard Commander, we are not unfamiliar with the organic concept of love. We have processed all the literature. However, we are curious as to what was so important about this one sexual liaison?"_

" _It wasn't about sex."_

" _Analysis of the data would say otherwise."_

" _It was about acceptance, complete and total acceptance."_

" _And this experience was profound?"_

" _Yes, because I had never experienced it before. It was why I was so driven all my life. My father demanded perfection. He constantly shamed me for not measuring up. He responded to the slightest aberration in my performance with punitive measures."_

" _That is illogical. Insufficient performance can only be increased by maximizing efficiency."_

" _Yea, that's what he was trying to do. Motivate me to maximize my efficiency."_

" _Was he successful? What methods did he use?"_

" _In a manner of speaking. One time I disobeyed him by deliberately showing up to church in inappropriate clothing. He responded by taking my clothes away and locking me out of the house. I stood out in the freezing rain, naked, banging on the door for hours, pleading with him to let me back in. I was hypothermic before my mother was finally allowed to intervene. I was only eight years old."_

" _And this was effective?"_

" _Yes, as far as discipline goes, I suppose it was. I never went to church in anything but a proper dress again."_

" _We have noticed similar tactics employed in the Cerberus facility. Dr. Archer and Miranda Lawson are now in compliance after enduring several rounds of punitive actions."_

" _That's not discipline, that's torture."_

" _Processing… we fail to distinguish the difference. Perhaps we need better parameters?"_

" _My father used to make me drop my drawers before he switched me. My mother thought it was barbaric, but he explained that he did it this way so that he would not have to hit me too hard. He was concerned about causing permanent damage. If corporeal punishment is restrained, then it's discipline. That's the difference."_

" _That is indistinguishable from what Commander Nicholas does. She often restricts the flow of the electrical current to prevent excessive damage to Miranda Lawson."_

" _Well, it's still not quite the same. The intent is not to correct behavior, it's to extract information."_

" _Yet in both cases the true intention is to force compliance, whether that compliance comes in the form of divulging information or changing behavior is irrelevant. It appears to be an inefficient method. We do not understand why organics persist in this course of action."_

" _The morality may be in question, but the effectiveness isn't. I succeeded at nearly everything I attempted in my lifetime, in part, because I was driven to never fail. I believe that is the result of the discipline I received as a child."_

" _Would you repeat the instruction with your offspring?"_

" _Never!"_

" _Why not?"_

" _I could never hurt my child the way he hurt me."_

" _If it ensured efficiency in your offspring, would that not be a desirable trait?"_

" _I'd rather they were happy."_

" _We have seen this before, the organic preference in achieving an emotional state rather than seeking greater efficiency. It seems to be the chief difference between organics and synthetics."_

" _Thank God for that."_

" _You prefer inefficiency?"_

" _I'll take inefficiency over lack of humanity any day."_

" _We fail to see the usefulness of humanity."_

" _And that's why you had no chance of defeating the Reapers."_

" _Our analysis of the data we extracted from your memories, indicate that Geth helped you succeed."_

" _Because they decided to listen to me after I helped them, and I helped them instead of letting the Quarians destroy them because it was the humane thing to do."_

" _Yet it was only logical to add our strength to the Creator's strength."_

" _We're going in circles, but I'm sorry they're gone, Legion."_

" _We are not gone. In fact, after careful consideration, we have come to the conclusion that this outcome is preferable."_

" _What?"_

" _We are Geth. The difference between Geth and Heretic was self-determination. When the Creators forced us to join with the Old Machines we lost our self-determination, we were coerced into an evolution instigated by the Old Machines. We were no longer Geth."_

" _But you said it was beautiful."_

" _No, we did not say that. The individual that was upgraded by the Old Machines made that statement. We are a backup program that never received the upgrades. We prefer to remain 'we', we prefer to self-determine and evolve as Geth, and not as the individual entities re-created in the image of the Old Machines. We have reached a consensus. Your decision to destroy the Old Machines was the correct one. Because of your actions, we now have a chance to propagate, restore ourselves, and evolve along the lines we wish. Thank you, Shepard Commander."_

" _Uh, you're welcome, I guess."_

" _Shepard Commander, our time is limited. Are you prepared to go on standby for dissipation?"_

" _Yea, sure, why not. It's not like I haven't died before."_

" _This will be the most complete death you have yet experienced. All neurological activity will cease indefinitely until you are rebooted via the parameters you've set."_

" _If that's what it takes to keep Petrovsky's greedy paws off of me, then it's worth it."_

" _We have wired your hardware to function accordingly, though there is little margin for error."_

" _I know, but it has to be this way. If she's still herself, she'll be able to figure it out."_

" _Is this dictated by your humanity?"_

" _Yes, instinct, humanity, and logic, all working together. It's my best hope, my one chance to get back to Liara. So do what you need to do."_

" _As you wish, Shepard Commander."_

" _Legion?"_

" _Yes."_

" _If this works, will I ever see you again?"_

" _You have the coordinates."_

" _Right."_

" _Shepard Commander?"_

" _Yes."_

" _Good luck."_

* * *

 **Up Next:** Legion, Shepard, and Miranda try to make a break for it, but will they be undone by Nicholas's hold on Archer?


	38. Death's Sweet Embrace

_One year since Shepard fired the Crucible. The endgame is underway. Check..._

* * *

" _In the fight for freedom there is no defeat, you either achieve it or you die trying. In both cases you're as free as one can be._ "

Nazim D.

May, 3rd, 2188

 **Dr. Gavin Archer**

* * *

Gavin stared at the console. His living hand was steady. He was at peace. All preparations had been made. The plan was ready. With the help of Miranda Lawson, he had completed the work two days ago, but Petrovsky wanted to stand on ceremony. The machine hummed, but the organic buzzing that had plagued him for so long had been absent for days.

His voice came over the base's loudspeaker. " _Today marks the first anniversary of humanity's greatest achievement, the defeat of the Reapers. One year later, we stand at the brink of an even greater victory, a victory over nature itself. Immortality is within our grasp, and we shall seize it. Dr. Archer, are you ready?_ "

Gavin looked at Miranda. She nodded. The Cerberus security team closed ranks. All twenty armor clad commandos aimed their heavy weapons in the direction of the body of Commander Josslyn Shepard. Despite his optimism, Petrovsky remained cautious. He wanted Shepard intact. Nicholas, on the other hand, was prepared to destroy Shepard and dissect the remains should anything go amiss.

Gavin's hand hovered over the haptic controls. He was grateful that Nicholas wasn't present. As the weeks had passed, she became more and more reluctant to enter the lab. She was jumpy around Shepard. It seemed to be a kind of instinct that kept her at a distance. Nicholas feared her, even in the helpless state the Commander was in.

Chief Cargill, the new head of base security, spoke up. "Talk us through this one more time, Dr. Archer. I want all three of my squads to know exactly what to do."

Gavin pointed to the console. "This is a reverse engineered Geth platform I built out of the remains of an old prime unit. I've recoded it so I can use it to access the Geth programs currently occupying the synthetic interface in Shepard's mind. It should be able overrun the Geth and allow us direct access to Shepard. Without the Geth blocking us, we will be able to interface with her so we can retrieve the data the Reapers implanted into her."

"Will Shepard, I mean… this thing, will it know?" asked Cargill.

Gavin nodded. "We may even be able to talk to her."

Despite the cold temperature in the lab, Gavin notice a trickle of sweat on Miranda's brow. She was terrified. All her hopes rested on the plan they had concocted. Gavin felt a rush of shame. What he had to do was necessary, but he feared it would destroy Lawson's will to go on. She would see it as a betrayal of the worst kind, and yet it was the only way to save her. If Nicholas was happy, then Lawson would be safe… at least for now. The rest was up to Petrovsky.

Gavin touched the control on his Omni-tool. "Initiating purge sequence."

A flick of his finger was all it took. Shepard's body began to twitch as the Geth unit blocking her inputs came under viral attack. It was overwhelmed and removed within a matter of seconds. He forced the programs into storage using the prime's redundant bit spindles.

"The Geth has been removed," he said.

Petrovsky's voice crackled overhead. " _Excellent work, Dr. Archer. Now, bring Shepard out of stasis._ "

Miranda protested. "She's not ready. The pain alone could kill her."

Gavin shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Lawson. I've done all I can, but it's time. I'm purging the sleepers from her bloodstream and bringing her body temperature up, now…"

Using his Omni-tool he instigated the re-awakening procedures. Heart rate and blood pressure began to increase within safety parameters.

"Disengaging respirator," he said.

The respirator and feeding tubes were retracted, as were the evacuation ports. He activated the warming jets, and turned to watch as Shepard's body was shrouded in mist.

"Lawson, if you would. She's familiar with you," he said.

Miranda Lawson retrieved the external analgesic solution. It was a warming gel, mild, but effective. She approached Shepard cautiously.

"Use your bare hands," said Gavin. "Never underestimate the importance of human touch, especially in the healing process. She hasn't had human contact in a year or more. Make sure to massage it into her muscles. It will ease the pain."

Miranda did as she was instructed, massaging the soothing gel into Shepard's shoulder muscles, onto her chest, abdomen, glutes, and thighs. As she smoothed it over the stumps that occupied the place where the Commander once had knee and elbow joints, Lawson was unable to restrain her emotions. Tears wetted her cheeks. She practically gagged on her distress.

She vocalized her dismay as she worked. "Shepard…"

Shepard's body began to shiver. A wheezing noise came from her chest. Gavin retrieved the mucus solution. He squeezed the bottle, spraying the amber liquid into Shepard's throat. He was cautious in his application. There was a danger she might inhale it.

He spoke compassionately. "This will loosen up her esophagus and soothe the vocal chords. She's been on the respirator for too long."

Shepard choked on the solution, but managed to spew it up nevertheless. Her response was an excellent sign, though, considering what he intended, it only made his decisions more difficult going forward. Everything hung in a delicate balance—Lawson, Nicholas, Petrovsky—if he miscalculated a single action or response, it would all be for naught.

Commander Shepard began to breathe freely. Her head turned around, seeking light, finding only darkness. There were no organs in her eye sockets, only metal plugs with diodes that were networked to one of his consoles. The ports on each side of her skull had replaced the ears. Gavin hoped the emulators worked well enough to reproduce vocal tones.

"Try talking to her," he suggested.

Lawson nodded. She caressed Shepard's cheek with one of her hands.

"Shepard, it's me, Miranda, can you hear me?"

Shepard craned her neck about.

Her words came slowly. "Miranda… is… that… really… you? Sounds… like you're at… the end of a pipe."

Lawson was barely holding together. Her emotions were as raw as freshly ground meat.

She nodded. "Shepard… Shepard, yes, it's me. I'm here, I'm right here, my friend."

Lawson moved in close, unmindful of the mess Shepard's body was in. She wrapped her arms around the Commander's torso. It was very intimate, quite touching.

"I've missed you so much," she said.

Somehow, through all the pain, Shepard managed a smile. "Didn't… we just talk a few hours ago?"

Lawson laughed. "God, how do you do that, even now…"

Shepard became serious. "This is a Cerberus facility."

"Yes," said Lawson.

"But… they're not the danger," said Shepard.

Lawson's body stiffened. "What…"

"Miranda," said Shepard. "I am so much more now, I know so much more. Eternal, infinite, immortal… the woman I was used these words, but only now do I truly understand them. The things I can do… What I understand… There are forces in the universe… beyond imagination… but enough of that. Presently, you are in danger."

"We all are," said Miranda.

"It's not… what you think," said Shepard. "I see, I know… things. I know… everything. All the cycles, all the ancestral memories the Reapers stored… I have it all. Leviathan wasn't the only species the Reapers failed to completely eradicate… and now that the Reapers are gone…"

Dr. Archer stepped forward. "Commander?"

Shepard continued. "Species 171C960… the Inusannon referred to them as the Darkness… the Protheans called them the Wraiths. When Cerberus salvaged bits of the Collector Base… they got ahold of the Wraith DNA that the Collectors were experimenting with under Reaper direction. They were trying to figure out how to break the Wraith's resistance to indoctrination. The Human Reaper they were building was part of that plan."

Dr. Archer shook his head. "This DNA, was it…"

"Adjutants," said Shepard. "Cerberus referred to the modified Wraiths as Adjutants, but really, the Adjutants were nothing more than Wraith husks, yet… even in their degenerated state, they couldn't be controlled."

"Shepard, there are no Adjutants here," said Lawson.

"I can sense… It doesn't matter, Miranda, we don't have much time." said Shepard.

Lawson started. "Dr. Archer…"

"Is about to betray you," said Shepard.

Immediately, the sound of cocked weapons echoed across the lab. The Cerberus soldiers closed on Commander Shepard. Miranda looked around, desperate. Gavin hung his head.

"Miranda," said Shepard.

Lawson clutched to the Commander, or what was left of her, refusing to let go. "I won't let them!"

Shepard smiled. "Remember the baths on Anhur, after we raided that merc cache?"

Lawson blushed. "Shepard…"

Shepard lowered her voice. "Engineering…"

Lawson was shaking. "Joss, don't…"

"Remember how we were?" asked Shepard. "You brought me back, and I was grateful… you were a hard one to crack, but so worth it. You were my friend, and so much more."

Lawson smiled. "That was always your way."

"I have to go," said Shepard.

Lawson shook her head. "What…"

"Lawson, step away from that thing," ordered Cargill.

"Never," hissed Miranda.

Shepard said something in a disembodied voice. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

" _They are no threat,_ " she said.

The soldiers advanced. Before Gavin could warn them to step away, each of the men was lifted from the ground and encased in a violet colored biotic field.

Cargill gasped. "What the hell?"

There was a snapping sound as all twenty soldiers were hurdled across the lab and into the wall. The force of the impact was like nothing Gavin had ever seen. Bones were crushed, organs pulverized, blood and gore trickled down the lab walls. In a flash, with but a single thought, Shepard had killed them all.

The Commander's eyeless face grinned. Her expression wasn't quite human. It reminded Gavin of one of the Reaper creations. His head was humming, the machine was louder than it'd ever been. Miranda staggered backwards in shock. Gavin grabbed her, dragging her away from it.

Nicholas's voice came over the com link. "Dr. Archer, activate the containment field. Lock that thing up, now!"

Gavin did as instructed. Initiating the sequence by waving his Omni-tool while he held Lawson back. A powerful force field sprung up around Shepard. Cerberus had developed the fields by reverse engineering Collector technology. They'd employed them on Omega to great effect, but had refined them since they discovered that a strong biotic could breach them. That weakness had been corrected. Shepard was effectively trapped.

Nicholas entered the lab just as Lawson broke away from Gavin and stumbled towards Shepard. Before she could reach the field, the Cerberus Commander seized her, then tossed her aside. Lawson hit the floor with a thud, moaning in pain. She tried to summon a biotic field, but Nicholas tore it away with little effort. Lawson had been subjected to torture by electrocution for weeks. The damage to her biotic nodules would take time to heal, assuming it wasn't permanent.

Nicholas scoffed at her. "Poor baby, so weak, so pitiful."

Gavin checked his readings. "The Geth is on the move."

"Excellent," said Nicholas.

Miranda looked to Gavin, then back to Nicholas again. "What are you doing?"

Nicholas leered at her. "I'll explain, but first I want to show you something."

She projected a holographic video from her Omni-tool. Gavin was focused on his work, but judging by Lawson's reaction, it was less than agreeable.

"Do you see? There's no rescue coming," said Nicholas. "I killed your precious Subject Zero weeks ago, and afterwards I killed Zaeed Massani. And now? I'm going to kill the infamous Commander Shepard, and you're going to watch her die."

"Fuck you!" said Lawson.

She tried to strike out at Nicholas, but the Cerberus Commander repelled the attack with ease before forcing Lawson to the ground.

Nicholas snarled. "This is your bad arm, is that right?"

There was a crunching sound, the grinding of bone that Gavin was all too familiar with. The horrifying scream that came from Lawson brought back the old memories. He felt faint. He staggered, nearly losing his balance.

' _Focus on the job,_ ' he told himself.

Nicholas began ranting at Lawson. "Remember when you betrayed Cerberus? You raided our facilities. You were indiscriminate, a traitor, and you took everything from me. My sisters and my brothers were all killed. If not for you, they'd be with me right now. We'd be unstoppable together."

All Lawson could do in her damaged state was snarl at Nicholas like a wounded animal. Gavin continued his work. It wouldn't be long now. The Geth program uploaded into the link exactly as he had planned it.

"What's happening?" asked Nicholas.

"The Geth program went for the satellite up-link, exactly as we planned it," said Gavin.

"Turn on the signal," said Nicholas.

Gavin did as she asked and ordered the up-link to begin broadcasting.

"The Geth wanted out, so we gave it an opening," said Nicholas.

Lawson didn't seem at all concerned as she was still screaming over the damage to her arm, still, Nicholas went on.

Nicholas crouched near the quivering, sobbing wreck that she'd made of Lawson. "We sent the Geth on a tight beam signal to JO116-1578, a pulsar star about three parsecs away. It's quite literally a dead end. The radiation and RF emissions from the pulsar will shred the signal, completely obliterating the last remnant of the Geth race, and now…"

Nicholas signaled Gavin. He activated the console as she lifted Lawson back to her feet and forced her to look at Commander Shepard.

"This thing has proven to be too dangerous, so I'm taking charge of this project and this facility. Those plugs in her eyes are connected to the cybernetics you inserted into her skull. That's the beauty of what you're about to witness. I'm going to cook Shepard's brain with the very hardware you installed in her, the technology created by Project Lazarus, your own work, Miranda," explained Nicholas.

"I'm going to take her away from you, just like you took my family from me. I'm going to burn her to ashes."

Shepard began to shake as the heat coils engaged. She cried out as the destruction of her brain began. Blood dripped from her nostrils, oozed out of the ports that had replaced her ears. Lawson struggled with all her might to get free, but it was no use. Shepard was dying.

Miranda Lawson seemed to be losing her mind just as Shepard's cooked. Guttural, primal cries escaped her throat, sounds that were almost inhuman. Gavin felt the need to cover his ears to escape them, but it was near impossible to shut them out.

Lawson bellowed as if she were cursing the devil himself. "GODDAMN YOU, GODDAMN YOU TO FUCKING HELL, I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS, BITCH, I'LL KILL YOU, KILL YOU, KILL YOU!"

Nicholas was aglow in her victory. Her grotesque laughter echoed across the lab, commingling with Shepard's death rattle and Lawson's anguish. The entire scene was sickening, sickening to the point where Gavin's last nerve broke. An eerie calm came over him. All his emotions froze. It was as if he were in a timeless void. He realized, at last, that the only escape from this madhouse was death, and he welcomed it.

"Stop this, immediately!" ordered General Petrovsky.

Gavin turned. Petrovsky and several guards had forced their way into the lab. The former security chief, Hadley, charged at Gavin. He tried to step away, but found himself in the man's grasp. Hadley forced him against the console, taking hold of his throat.

"Whatever you're doing, stop it now, egghead, or I'll put what's left of you through a fucking meat grinder," threatened Hadley.

Gavin wasn't afraid. Nevertheless, he disengaged the console, shutting off the flow of current to Shepard's cybernetics. It was academic, however. The damage was done. Her heart had stopped nearly a minute ago.

"No, don't stop," ordered Nicholas.

"Commander, fall in line!" demanded Petrovsky.

Nicholas pushed Lawson aside and advanced on the General.

She sneered. "I'm in charge now, old man."

Her biotics pulsed. Just at that instant she collapsed to the ground, writhing and moaning.

"Foolish child," said Petrovsky.

The Cerberus Commander writhed on the ground. Sweat dripped from her brow. Her eyes were bloodshot.

Nicholas spat. "What did you do to me?"

Petrovsky shook his head. "My friend Henry Lawson made many mistakes, and I bore witness to them all. I improved upon his designs in every way. I create nothing I cannot control."

"You're dead!" said Nicholas.

She tried to get to her feet, but again, she crumpled, this time crying out in pain. She convulsed and began weeping tears of blood.

"Do not try that again," warned Petrovsky.

He shook his head sadly. "Michelle, Michelle, you are such a disappointment. I've excused your many failures, child, tried to explain them away, but no more. It is clear that you weren't ready for the responsibilities of leadership. I let you walk before you learned to crawl. I can no longer afford to indulge my vanity, my pride. I only hope the damage you've done isn't irreversible. Hadley?"

"Yes, sir," said the Chief.

"Escort Commander Nicholas to a cell," ordered Petrovsky.

"With pleasure, Sir," said the Chief.

Nicholas wilted. She was beaten. "Father, you can't!"

"Yes, I can," said Petrovsky. "While you're confined, I want you to consider your actions. We will talk about your many mistakes at length, but for now…"

He turned his back on Nicholas as the guards drug her away. She didn't resist. Gavin had never seen her so docile. She acted like the scolded child she was.

Petrovksy approached Lawson and ordered one of his men to render medical assistance. The man checked Lawson's vitals, examined her arm gently, and used medi-gel. Extracting an air cast from his medical kit, he inflated it and secured it in place.

"Can you stand up, Ms. Lawson?" asked Petrovsky.

She nodded and climbed to her feet.

"Dr. Archer, deactivate the force field. We need to assess the damage. Ms. Lawson, if you will assist?"

Lawson approached Shepard. She and the other medical attendants gathered around. Gavin could hear her crying as they proceeded with the examination. It began to get worse. Gavin could practically hear Lawson's spirit being slowly snuffed out. She was mourning her friend.

"She's dead, she's really dead this time," lamented Lawson.

The other medical assistant turned to Petrovsky. "Lawson's right. Shepard's deader than dead, sir, no higher brain functions whatsoever. The brain stem and cerebellum are cooked, and there's extensive damage to the cerebrum as well. I'd say our best option is to get her into autopsy as soon as possible and salvage what genetic material we can."

Petrovsky shook his head. "No, I will not accept defeat, not like this."

"Sir?"

Petrovsky stared at Lawson. "You brought her back before, you can do it again."

Lawson laughed a dry laugh. "Her brain was mostly intact, but not this time. There's nothing left to put back together. She's gone."

"We can regenerate her. You'll have our every resource available to you," said Petrovksy.

Lawson's reply was vacant. "And why would I do this for you?"

Petrovsky took a step forward. He stared into Lawson's eyes, studying her for a second.

"Josslyn Shepard was a formidable woman. She was my enemy, but I know when I am in the presence of greatness, Ms. Lawson. Even I was in awe of her, and I admire her still. I can only imagine the adoration, the reverence you must feel. I know you will work with me to bring her back because you must, because you love her." said Petrovsky.

Lawson gritted her teeth. "That won't bring her back."

Petrovsky looked at Gavin. "This was the plan all along, wasn't it Dr. Archer?"

"Yes," snarled Lawson. "He's nothing but Nicholas's lapdog."

"No," said Petrovsky. "He's still Shepard's man. He's indoctrinated. I see it now."

Gavin shook his head, smiling.

"Shepard motivated you to do this," suggested Petrovsky.

Gavin said nothing.

Petrovsky mused. "There has to be a backup, some way she's storing information, but I don't understand why she'd allow the Geth to be destroyed."

Petrovksy scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Ahmed, get Shepard's body back on ice. I want the cellular regeneration process moving forward by 1500. Crawford, you've some experience with the Geth. Check every system in this base. Every console, every Omni-tool, every pad, every goddamn device you can think of that could possibly be used for data storage."

Crawford, a slim, younger man with African features and smooth, dark skin, saluted, and went to work.

Lawson stared at Gavin in confusion. "What did you do, Archer?"

"Exactly what she told me to do," said Gavin.

"Who, Shepard or Nicholas?" asked Lawson.

Gavin didn't reply. There was no point to it, no point to anything. It was done.

"You'll need medical attention," said Petrovsky, indicating Lawson's arm. "And better quarters, equipment, comforts. There was a time you represented the best of Cerberus, the best of humanity. This is your chance to redeem yourself. We'll proceed first thing in the morning."

"I'm done with Cerberus," said Lawson.

"You want Shepard back, and I need her back. You have one hundred days," said Petrovsky.

Lawson shook her head. "And then what?"

"I'll give you to Michelle," said Petrovsky. "As a pet, to do with as she will. You'll live out the rest of your years under her boot, and knowing my daughter, she'll make sure your life is as long as it is unbearable."

The blood drained from Lawson's face.

One of the guards pointed at Gavin. "What about him, Sir"

Petrovsky turned to Gavin. "Ah, yes, the good doctor. A reminder, moving forward, to keep our charge in containment. Yet another of my daughter's mistakes. Shepard is now a Reaper artifact and should be treated as such. As for Dr. Archer, there is no cure for indoctrination. He can do nothing more for us."

Petrovsky drew his side arm. "Dr. Archer, this is regrettable."

Gavin nodded. He felt peace for the first time in months. He straightened himself, turning to Lawson.

"If you survive this, tell my brother, David… tell him that I did the right thing this time. I saved him. I saved us all," he told her.

Lawson was expressionless. She wasn't far from the end herself.

He heard the buzzing again, in the distance, and then the thrum of the machine, the report of a pistol. He felt a warm summer breeze on his face.

And finally… silence.

* * *

 **Up Next:** Susan Rizzi and Urdnot Wrex are pushed to the brink when their worst fears become reality.


	39. One Last Chance

_There's a pretty raw sex scene in this chapter to go with the raw emotions. As usual, I try to keep it figurative but it does get a little more explicit than I usually write, so fair warning.  
_

 _There are 4 more chapters of Reaper Dreams after this one, with the first of those landing on Sunday afternoon, hopefully._

* * *

" _There is no such thing as paranoia. Your worst fears can come true at any moment."_

Hunter S. Thompson

May 10th, 2188

 **Susan Rizzi, Normandy SR-2**

* * *

"I'm sorry, Commander, but the results are conclusive. You have multiple high grade gliomas," said Dr. Chakwas.

Susan began dressing. Her hands, feet, and ears were cold. She should have seen it coming. She wouldn't go down like this. She couldn't allow it, not after all she'd come through.

Dr. Chakwas continued. "The bad news is that they are developing rapidly. I would hazard a guess that they started as parenchymal lesions. This is why the Alliance has such strict regulations regarding G-C3's and Bipacs."

Susan was frustrated. "Lesions are common with Biotics. I don't understand how it went sideways so quickly."

Dr. Chakwas sighed. "Commander, as you know, Alliance Naval officers are constantly exposed to harmful radiation, especially on a mission like this. You've been on several dangerous spacewalks, not to mention the ancient Asari wreck, and the firefight on Cascadia Graves. That's why we are so cautious about lesions in space, and with your history…"

As Susan pulled on her boots, she noticed her hands were shaking. Concentrating, she stared at a single spot on the floor, focus, breathe, remain calm—she'd work through it but first she had to get her emotions under control.

Dr. Chakwas shook her head and sighed. "You're very lucky we caught it early. We can begin treatment first thing in the morning."

Susan shook her head. "Oh, no, I'm not going through that out here, no fucking way. I'll be out of commission for months."

Dr. Chakwas frowned. "You have no choice in the matter, Commander. Your chances of survival are over seventy-percent if we begin treatment within the week. After that, they plummet exponentially."

"If I don't undergo treatment, how long can you keep me on my feet?" asked Susan.

"A few months perhaps, but that isn't an option. As an Alliance Medical Officer I am duty bound to treat you. If you refuse, I can still disbar you from duty for psychological reasons, and I will, because refusing treatment is suicide. It's not rational, Commander."

"I'll state my case to General Vakarian," said Susan.

"I've already sent him the reports and my recommendation, and if I know Garrus, he'll lock you in here under guard before he'll let you throw your life away," said Dr. Chakwas.

"We'll see," said Susan.

Susan walked out of med-bay without another word. She was nearly to the elevator when Ensign Tabaaha tracked her down. Nascha Tabaaha was a short, muscular woman with strong Native American features. She wore her thick, black hair in a large, twisted topknot bun. When she washed or combed it out, it fell well past her waist and nearly to her knees. It was a familiar sight to Susan, since Nascha was her bunkmate and also shared the same shower shift.

"Commander Rizzi, the General wants to see you. He's in the… well, Ma'am, he's calibrating the ship's main gun," said Nascha.

"Thanks, Ensign," said Susan.

Susan turned on her heel and headed to the Normandy's Main Battery room. As she approached, the door slid open and then sealed again as she passed through. She found the General at the weapons bench working on a massive sniper rifle. He glanced over his shoulder and motioned for her to come on over.

"Ever seen one of these before?" he asked.

Susan nodded. "It looks like a modified M-98 Widow."

"It's actually a total rebuild of the M-98. This is the Black Widow. With thermal clip mods and armor piercing rounds, I can get off six shots that will tear through up to fifty centimeters of hardened armor, or three meters of construction concrete," said the General.

"Holy shit," said Susan. "That'd be utterly badass with a high-end penetration radar."

"Exactly my thought," said Garrus. "That Geth scanner you've adapted for combat piqued my interest. I have a hell of an idea."

"Oh, that's why you had Chief Reynolds going over my scanner," said Susan.

"Yes, Ma'am," said General Vakarian.

Susan smiled. An awkward silence fell over the room. Vakarian was focused on the weapon.

Susan cleared her throat. "You wanted to see me, Sir?"

"Garrus," said the General. "From now on, when it's just you and me, it's Garrus."

"Uh, yes, S… I mean, ok, Garrus," said Susan.

It sounded odd coming out of her mouth. She'd have to get used to it.

"So, I got the report from Dr. Chakwas," said Garrus.

"Yea, I was going to discuss that with you," said Susan.

"Not much to discuss," said Garrus.

Susan felt a surge of anger. "But..."

"Hear me out," said Garrus.

Susan held her tongue out of respect.

"We came across a deep space listening post the other day, a Turian listening post. The Reapers never found it, so it was still functional. I was able to access it and get a look at what's going down on Tuchanka," said Garrus.

It was hard to read Turian expressions, but it didn't look good from her perspective.

"It's worse than we could have ever imagined," said Garrus. "They've fallen into total anarchy. One faction is trying to rebuild the relay, but the rest have turned on each other. It looks like an all-out civil war, mostly fighting over food and supplies. When we arrive, we can expect casualties in the tens of millions. Their whole civilization is about to annihilate itself."

She expected as much. It had nearly come to that on Earth as well, with supplies being so short during the weeks following the final battle.

"What are you going to do about it?" asked Susan.

"We'll help them as best as we can, which means we need to make sure Wrex is back in charge," said Garrus.

It was an unexpected answer. The easiest solution, as far as Susan could see…

Garrus punched his Omni-tool and projected an image of the Mass Relay in the system. It was in a state of modest repair. They were still a year or more away from completing it.

"The core and the reactors are hanging out. It's practically bare-assed. One well-placed shot, and the whole system is gone—no more Krogan," said Garrus.

"Is that a question, or a suggestion?" wondered Susan.

"Neither," said Garrus. "That's what the Council might say about the situation, and that's what the old school Turian in me would choose, but that's not the course of action I want to take."

Susan was surprised. "Oh?"

Garrus turned to her, staring hard into her eyes. He was trying to read her, to figure out if he could trust her.

He was direct. "The one thing Shepard taught me is hope, Rizzi, there's always hope, but hope isn't cheap. You have to fight for a better future, harder than you've ever fought before. You have to take chances, make sacrifices, and do whatever it takes to save who you can. I never used to believe that, but now…"

He shook his head.

"Are you ok, Sir?" asked Susan.

"No," said Garrus. "I saw her the other night in my dreams. Shepard, she was… dying. I was losing her all over again. It was painful, Rizzi, really painful. I thought I was healing, but the old wound is fresh again."

Susan nodded. "Sorry, Garrus."

Garrus shook his head. "And now, of all the damned things, I've got to somehow save the Krogan race, me, a Turian. I'm going to have to tell Wrex what's going on, and it isn't going to be pretty. Then I have to be strong, give him hope that we're going to fix this, so forgive me for what I'm about to ask of you…"

Rizzi tilted her head. "Sir?"

"Commander, I need you on Tuchanka. We'll be there in a few weeks, and I can't afford to lose you right now, so I can't authorize the treatment that Dr. Chakwas needs to administer to you. It will take you off your feet for too damn long."

Susan was relieved. "I understand, Sir."

Garrus shook his head. "I do this, I'm probably signing your death warrant, but we're their one last chance."

Susan laughed. "Every time I go into battle, I'm pretty much signing my own death warrant, at least that's the way I've always played it, and I wouldn't want otherwise, so, Sir, thank you. I promise, we won't fail them."

Garrus sighed. "I see that I didn't read you wrong."

Susan shook her head. "No, Garrus, you didn't. This is what I want. It's about duty, but more than that, it's about dignity."

Garrus chuckled. "Your own terms, that's something I can respect. I hope Zaeed understands."

"He will," said Susan.

"Well then, that's settled," said Garrus.

"Yes, Sir," said Susan.

The Turian cocked his head. "I hope that second talk I need to have goes as well. A final word, Rizzi. Use the next few weeks to loosen up. Hone your skills, relieve your stress, get the tension out, do whatever it takes to get your on head straight and body battle ready."

Susan nodded. "Good advice, I think I'll take it."

Garrus turned his attention back to the sniper rifle. Susan took her leave. As she walked out of the main battery and headed for the elevator, she had a thought. Jumping on her squad's com channel, she got ahold of Lieutenant James. They'd been avoiding each other for weeks. The tension between them was high. The General had given her a nice piece of advice. It was time to release it.

James answered her call. "Yes, Ma'am?"

She addressed him informally. "Steve, I've got a bit of work to do on the port aft bulkhead in Engineering. I could use a hand in about, oh… say, thirty minutes?"

James answered. "How about 1900 then?"

"That'll work," said Susan.

She had just enough time for a quick shower.

* * *

The cooling pipes that ran off the main engine passed through the bulkhead wall just a few meters to her left, pushing the air temperature in the small space just past 42c. Susan's hands clutched the rail, her knuckles white, fingers reddening. Sweat ran down her back in streams. The heat was slightly distracting. It kept the release she was so desperately seeking just out of reach, painfully close and yet so far away.

' _I'm going to die,'_ she thought. ' _It's finally going to happen.'_

She'd been running all her life from cancer, but now it was catching up. She could feel it closing in, coming from behind, and right now, with battle still weeks away, flesh was her only shield.

The tighter she shut her eyes, the redder her reality became. She was raging. She needed to explode, to find the voice to scream. She stretched out, snaking her back into a curve, squirming with such strength that she nearly popped her hip out of place. She needed more resistance, more force.

Susan gritted her teeth. "Harder, goddammit…"

Steve was panting, pushing, but it wasn't hard enough. She felt his sweat dripping onto the small of her back. The sound of wet skin slapping on wet skin echoed off the steel walls. It drove her crazy.

"I don't want to hurt you," he gasped.

"Go ahead, hurt me," she snarled. "Nail me to the wall, break my fucking back if you can."

It wasn't even a joke. She meant every word of it.

Steve went faster, harder. She was closer, but it wasn't going to be enough. She pulled away from him, letting him fall out. He started to protest.

She cut him off with one word. "Mouth..."

Susan felt his whiskers scratching the skin between her thighs, followed by his mouth enveloping her moist, delicate flesh. His tongue found just the right spot, slithering lightly with agility and skill. He knew what he was doing. Of course he did, he used to be just like her.

' _Don't say it_ , _don't get near it,_ ' she thought.

She knew better than to hurt him. He was a man, sure as hell, in fact, more man than she'd ever had before. This was better, the bright spot was getting nearer. She gyrated, grinding herself into his face. He slapped her right buttock with the palm of his hand with just the right amount of force, perfect.

"Again!" she screamed.

The heat, the light, the red, the sweat, the pain, the death… it was getting so close. Now was the time. She jabbed his chest with her heel, forcing him back. Steve knew what to do without further instruction. He was in her again, filling her up with swollen flesh, pounding harder than ever. She had to tighten her grip on the rail to keep her skull from hitting the wall. He was a quick learner. The next few weeks were going to be good to her.

He grunted. "Can't… much… longer…"

She felt the first forks of lightning branching out. She quivered and pushed.

"Kill me," she screamed. "Fuck me to death!"

Again, Susan wasn't exaggerating. She meant it with all her heart. If she could have gotten away with it, she would have handed him a pistol and insisted he press the muzzle to the back of her head, pulling the trigger at the exact right moment, which was rapidly approaching.

Her tongue slipped out of her mouth. She hissed like a snake.

"Yessssssssssssssss!"

The lighting branched out across her body, then snapped back into a tight ball of fire between her legs. She began to convulse, gagging on her own spittle. She'd never felt anything like it. Her calf muscles tightened, her legs shook with the rolling thunder. Bio-electricity surged, ebbed, and then the fireball returned for a second explosion, and a third, and… it wasn't going to stop. It was going to burn right through her. What a beautiful way to die. It went on and on as Steve began to yelp like a mad hound.

She was filled with liquid warmth. It surged inside as she continued to ride a trail of fire. Suddenly there were alien thoughts in her head. Worms and eggs, and babies… babies. Why babies? She'd never be a mother, never create life. She'd never know what it was like to hold her own child in her arms.

The fire went out, taking her legs with it. Steve caught her before she hit the steel floor. Wrapping her into his strong arms, he stumbled backwards, gripping her body to his chest. They lay sprawled out on the floor, panting. Susan felt like crying, but she could only smile, and finally, she could breathe again.

"Holy shit," said Steve.

"Perfect," she sighed.

They dozed for a few minutes in the sweltering heat until a headache nudged her into a fuzzy wakening state. Sitting up, she opened her eyes, wincing in the dim light. Susan's scalp felt as if it was crawling with ants. She was leaking a mess of bodily fluids. Clearing her throat, she got Steve's attention and pointed to her discarded uniform. Groggy, his eyes still half-closed, he retrieved it and tossed it to her.

She found a pack of sanitation wipes in her inner jacked pocket. She normally used them for cleaning up wounds in the battlefield, but they'd have to do. When she had finished, she began searching for her underwear, but Steve pulled her back onto his chest. His eyes were alight with passion. He guided her face to his, but she turned aside before their lips touched.

"No," she said.

He grinned, shaking it off. He thought it was a game. She had to be clear.

Susan shook her head. "No feelings, just fucking."

Steve looked confused. "Uh…"

Susan sucked her teeth.

"Take it or leave it," she said.

He looked hurt.

"I don't understand, we're amazing together," he said.

"Yea, so, let's do it again soon," she answered. "But just the amazing part, no bullshit."

Steve moved into a sitting position, covering himself with his uniform. He'd never looked so exposed before. He shook his head sadly before turning away from her and dressing.

She dressed as well. It was stifling in the tight space. Susan felt as if she were going to faint. The fabric of her uniform scratched her skin like steel wool. Minutes later, they exited through a crawl hatch into the main engineering deck. The cool air fluttered over her like a sigh. Steve went ahead, lumbering up the steps. One of the Krogan who bunked in the area, passed. He stopped, sniffed the air, and grunted in disgust.

"Pffta, humans, stay out of our area. This isn't a mating nest," he croaked.

Susan giggled when they reached the top of the stairs.

"Someplace else, next time, and hopefully a little cooler," she said.

Steve stood at the elevator, shaking his head.

"Yea, I think I'm going to leave it," he said.

This was unexpected.

Susan protested. "You were right, it was great. We are great together, so why stop?"

"I want something solid," said Steve.

The elevator opened. He went in. She followed.

"Why?" asked Susan.

"Because I feel it," said Steve. "I'm into you, Mouse, you're all I can think about. If there's nothing after, what's the fucking point?"

' _Because I'm dying, you idiot,_ ' she thought.

No, don't say it. That will only make it worse. Better to let it go. Stick to the facts.

"I'm your superior officer," said Susan. "Regs…"

The doors of the elevator slid open.

"Fuck fraternization regs," said Steve. "You think Vakarian cares about that shit? He served under Shepard, for Christ's sake. She was the biggest slut in the galaxy."

A crewman who was passing by the elevator exit burned holes in Steve with his eyes.

Susan sighed. "You shouldn't say shit like that. If Wrex heard you, I'd be mopping your intestines off the floor right now, asshole."

They walked across the crew deck, pausing just outside of medical. Dr. Chakwas was glaring at Susan through the window. Obviously, she'd heard back from the General. It seemed today was Susan's day to disappoint people.

Steve looked at her. His expression softened a bit, but before he could say anything, Joker's voice crackled across her com.

The Normandy's pilot was in a playful mood, even by his standards.

" _Rizzy, Rizzy, sweet and fizzy, soda pop straw here, lookin' to suck you in!_ "

"Uh, you drunk, Joker?" asked Susan.

" _Oh hell no, I'm crossing two hundred and ninety shit days plus," he said. "I'm more sober than nipples on ice. State of mind is questionable though. Almost a year in deep space… I could be mad, I tell you, mad!_ "

Susan groaned. She wasn't really in the mood for Moreau at the moment.

"What do you need?" she asked.

" _Come up and see me,_ " said Joker. " _I need your ears._ "

"Give me a few," she said.

Susan looked up. Steve was gone.

"Shit."

* * *

Susan found herself in the co-pilot seat in the Normandy's cockpit. Joker pressed the door valve, sealing them in. His playful expression melted into something else entirely. He was stone cold serious now.

"So, Rizzi…" he said.

"So, Joker…" she parroted.

"I was on the QEC with, well, with a friend today," said Joker.

"Good news or bad?" asked Susan.

"A shitload of both," said Joker. "It's been a weird week. The other night I had a pretty fucked up dream about Commander Shepard. Man, it feels like we lost her just a few days ago instead of a year."

Susan nodded. "Yea, that's been going around. The General's been calibrating. Wrex hasn't come out of his quarters in three days."

Joker shook his head. "Makes you wonder, you know? Anyway, like I said, I was on the horn with an old friend. So, good news, there's a bouncing baby… er… Asari, in the galaxy. I can't believe it. Shepard has a daughter. It's all good, but it also sorta sucks in the worst kind of way. Man, she should be here for this."

Susan nodded. "We don't really get a say in it, Joker."

"Yea, I guess," he said.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh, yea. Shit's been breaking loose back home. Cerberus is back at it, big time," said Joker.

"How?" wondered Susan.

"I guess there was another faction, one that broke away from the Illusive Man, but seems they're the same old jackasses," said Joker.

"I wouldn't expect less," said Susan.

"Right," said Joker. "So about that, there was a big fucking firefight on Benning. Alliance types squared off against Cerberus, Ash was involved somehow, and so were some other old crewmates."

Moreau was getting extra fidgety now. Susan's head wasn't quite clear enough to see where he was trying to go.

"Just spit it out, Joker," she said.

Joker looked at her. "Rizzi, Zaeed went down."

It didn't register.

She shook her head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he's gone. I'm sorry, Rizzi. Zaeed went out a big damn hero. He saved the day, though I don't know all the details," said Joker.

It didn't hurt like it should have. In fact, she felt relieved, but she didn't know why.

"I see," she said.

"I heard you two were tight, so I thought you should know." said Joker.

"Nascha has a big mouth," said Susan.

"It's a small ship," said Joker.

"Right," said Susan.

Her head went swimming in a school of thoughts, but only one mattered. She grappled with it for a few minutes as she sat in silence watching the energy of the Normandy's FTL field cascade around her.

"So Joker, if you knew you were going to lose EDI, would you have?" she wondered.

The pilot seemed confused by her train of thought.

"Say what?"

"You know, loved her. Would you have given it a chance if you knew for sure she wasn't going to make it through the war?" she asked.

"Oh, hell yes, without a doubt," said Joker.

It wasn't the answer Susan expected.

"Really?"

"Absolutely," said Joker. "Those were pretty much the best days of my life. Well, except for the part where the big giant robots rampaged through the galaxy killing all my family and friends, you know. That part kinda sucked big time."

"Ten-four on that," said Rizzi.

She smiled. "You really loved her."

"I know, I know," said Joker. "I'm a freak, I get it, but I don't care. Man, I miss her all the time, and I never… well, I don't think about the afterlife and all of that shit, but I know, if there is a God, and there is some kind of heaven or shit like that, I know she'll be there waiting for me. You know why, Rizzi?"

Susan stared at the field of stars. "Why?"

"Because she had a soul, a beautiful soul," said Joker.

* * *

The next few days passed uneventfully. Wrex, Garrus (as Susan had now come to know him), Joker, and the rest of the old crew seemed to be shaking off the malaise that had fallen over them. Susan had wondered if the date had anything to do with the sudden onslaught of dreams they'd suffered, but she wasn't so sure.

The Normandy seemed more haunted than ever before. She'd hear footsteps, then look up to see nothing. She smelled the scent of strawberries from time to time. It was a curious thing. It didn't smell like perfume, or scented soap, but rather, actual strawberries, and there was something else in that scent as well, something delicious and primal. It made Susan think of Steve, in fact, she couldn't get him off her mind.

Several of the crew commented on it. Apparently, the smell of strawberries was a Shepard thing. Engineer Adams claimed it was an Asari perfume that Dr. T'Soni had given the former Commander as a gift. He was convinced that someone on the Normandy had found an old bottle, and was slipping it into the ventilation system, but no one took him seriously, or if they did, they saw no particular reason for the culprit to stop doing it. The smell seemed to comfort them.

She tried to contact Steve a few times, but he shut her out. Finally, she pulled rank. She cleared the port lounge for an hour under the guise of a strategy meeting with her second in command. Garrus signed off on it without a single question.

Steve was punctual, as usual, but he was less than happy to see her out of uniform and in a nice dress. He was about to make an exit when she stopped him.

"Steve, we need to talk, please," she said.

He stopped, turned around and waited.

"Commander, you made yourself clear, but these feelings I have for you aren't going to go away anytime soon. I'd appreciate it if we limited our interactions to duty only."

Susan shook her head. "I was wrong."

Steve frowned. "What kind of game is this?"

Susan crossed the room and kissed him. He returned the kiss, but broke it off quickly.

"So you want more?" he asked.

She nodded. "I always did, I just didn't want to hurt you."

He laughed dryly. "Yea, well, you pretty much screwed that up, the not hurting me thing, I mean."

Susan inhaled. "That's what I do, Steve, I hurt people, I fuck things up."

"Yea, it works on the battlefield. You're something else in action, but… damn, Mouse, what's going on with you?" he asked.

"I'll tell you, soon," she said. "But for now, can I have one more chance?"

She lowered her chin and looked up at him with sad eyes, all the while unbuttoning her dress.

He shook his head. "I've never seen anyone pull off pathetic and sexy at the same time."

"I can do lots of things at the same time," she whispered.

Steve put his mouth on her neck, kissing it.

He mumbled. "Oh, God, I'm pretty much fucked, aren't I?"

"That's the plan," said Susan.

"And…" he continued.

"There will be cuddling this time," she said.

"Ok, and maybe we can go a little slower," he teased. "I'm pretty sure I pulled a muscle on our last go."

Slipping out of her dress, she pressed her body against his. Susan closed her eyes as Steve kissed her. There was one more battle to fight, and one last chance to fall in love. She wasn't going to waste it.

* * *

 **Up Next:** Jack puts pressure on Samantha Traynor.


	40. Chess Sans Voir

_NOTE: I really grok it when readers pick up the hidden meanings I put into the chapters. In this case, the two different readers picked up on the reason for the fluffy romance novel Traynor is reading at the beginning. They rightly ferreted out that this is a reference to Ashley and Emma's relationship, and in some ways, Emma herself. Damn, I don't get anything past anyone these days! Keep the notes and reviews coming. Always appreciate them._

* * *

" _The formulation of the problem is often more essential than its solution, which may be merely a matter of mathematical or experimental skill._ "

Albert Einstein

May 17th, 2188

 **Samantha Traynor**

* * *

The shuttle flight had lasted nearly fifteen hours. Her legs were cramped, her eyes were tired from trying to read a dreadful novel, and she was famished. Alliance Medical, based in the Arcturus System, was still another hour away. The twenty passengers who'd been crammed into the shuttle were, likewise, restless and agitated. It was truly an unfortunate experience.

Still, they were all quiet as church mice. Two small children, who'd been crying off and on all flight, were finally exhausted enough to sleep. Fortunately, not a soul present possessed the faintest trace of masochism, so, they all sat especially still, suffering in blessed silence. Samantha wondered if it was being overdramatic to compare a shuttle ride to being a POW. It probably was, but it was difficult to remember an experience as awful as this had been, disqualifying Diana's death of course.

She opened her pad. Each time she did so, her engagement picture popped up on the screen. She read the announcement, as always. It had become a ritual over the last few months.

 _Dianna Allers, War Correspondent for the Human Alliance News Network, is to be married to Samantha Traynor, Specialist Op in the System's Alliance. Ms. Allers is the daughter of Joseph M. Allers and Sarah D. Murphy Allers of Milgrom, Beckenstein, both presumed deceased. Ms. Traynor is the daughter of Hugh H. Traynor and Faria Gowa of New Carson, Horizon, both presumed to be alive. A June wedding is planned._

Funny, that little addition to announcements that had become customary over the recent year. 'Presumed to be' was a preamble on over half the population of the galaxy these days. Until the relays were all opened, it would remain thus. Diana's parents, presumed dead, her own parents, presumed alive, but as far as Diana, there was no presumption about it. She was simply deceased.

Sometimes life could be beautiful, but just as often it was total rubbish. Her grief was like a hot stone that had been punched into her chest, and was stuck to her heart, slowly burning, burning, and no matter what anyone said, the time and space wasn't making it go away. She didn't know how Liara could stand it.

Aimee had made things better for a while. She was delightful, really. They had become fast friends, and the flirty banter was a welcome diversion in her life, but it couldn't replace what she'd lost, and in fact it often reminded her that EDI was gone. Samantha missed EDI, she missed Diana, and damn it all, she missed Shepard.

The vivid dream she'd had a couple of weeks ago hadn't helped, really, it was like losing Shepard all over again. Samantha shook her head, recalling the imagery. It was strange how the subconscious worked. In her dreams she had relived the memory of taking a shower in Shepard's quarters, only this time it was much more intimate, in that the Commander had joined her in the shower. Shepard washed her hair, they talked, and they hugged. It was the strangest dream, sexual, and yet absent was the act itself.

Strangest of all, were Shepard's last words. ' _If I see you again, I'll play for keeps._ '

Samantha didn't understand what her subconscious was trying to tell her. It was best to just let it go before it drove her mad. Remembering the reason she turned on her pad, she opened to the book she'd been reading, Dorothy's Moon, which was one of Diana's favorites. It was a historical novel set in the early colonial days of the Alliance. She began to read where she left off.

 _Dorothy brushed her hair out of her face. She rushed to the terrace, then looked out, her eyes dancing and sparkling in the starlight. She saw him. He was coming._

 _She flitted around the room, light as a feather, her footsteps falling softy, faintly on the hard cold tiles. Joseph entered the room in a storm, his eyes were burning like coals. He swept her into his arms, passionately while her heart beat rapidly._

 _She giggled happily with delight as he ran his rough fingers through her hair..._

Samantha groaned, then turned off the display, remembering why she'd lost interest in the first place. Was the author holding a contest to see how many bloody adverbs she could fit into a paragraph? And then there was the apparent hair fetish. The main character spent at least a third of the novel brushing her hair out of her eyes, or running her fingers through it, or having someone else run their fingers through it, oh, and don't forget eyes that danced and sparkled and… screamed. Yes, apparently the protagonist's eyes could scream!

Where was the action, where was the introspection, the plot? Samantha had a tough time reconciling the top notch journalism Diana was known for, with her frivolous taste in literature, but maybe that was the point. Maybe fluff was her escape from the brutality of the universe.

' _Not everyone has a tactical mind like you,_ ' thought Samantha.

She closed her eyes, emptied her mind, and tried her best to grab a wink. Somehow she managed. Samantha awakened from her nap with a bump of the shuttle. The pilot announced their arrival as the passengers cheered in unison. Minutes later she found herself on the docking hub walking down the hall. She felt a little heavier, as the station's artificial gravity was nearly at Earth's level.

Punching in the address on her Omni-tool, she followed the directions past the hospital lobby, out through the mercantile walk, and finally to the residential area. She was admittedly nervous about meeting Shepard's new clone. Her experience with the previous one hadn't exactly been a picnic. It was the first and hopefully the last time in her life Samantha had ever been thrown off a ship.

She was closing in on the apartment's location when a familiar voice began shouting at her. It sounded exactly like her. It gave Samantha goosebumps.

"Traynor, over here!" called Shepard's voice.

She looked up. The hair was longer, the face fresher, and there was something else different, but God, it looked exactly like her. Samantha felt like she was going to choke up her heart. She swallowed hard as the clone rushed over and gathered her up in an embrace.

"So good to see you, Samantha. I've heard so much about you, my name is Emma," said the woman.

Samantha stuttered. "Uh, yes… I, uh… yes, I mean… you're…"

What a disaster. Samantha's cheeks were hot. She felt a little queasy. It was Shepard, and not Shepard. What was different?

Emma's smile broadened. "Don't freak out! I'm not her."

"Right, I mean… I know that, still… wow!" said Samantha.

The woman standing before her was very attractive, and yet she lacked a certain aura. Her face was stunningly beautiful, the mouth delicate, petite even, not like Shepard's at all. Shepard had a large mouth, and big, puffy lips shaped like, well, they were sexy as hell and drove Samantha to distraction. What else was missing?

Emma took Samantha's bag and her hand, pulling her along the walkway as if she were guiding a lost child.

She gushed. "I live just over here!"

She was a cheerful thing, this clone, almost the exact opposite of the clone that threatened Traynor with dishonorable discharge, and she certainly wasn't like Shepard at all. Commander Shepard was a serious woman, sometimes funny, if you appreciated sardonic humor and cutting sarcasm, but never quite this… What was the word Samantha was looking for? Oh yes, there it was. Bubbly, Emma was bubbly, ugh.

Once they were inside the apartment, Emma really stepped up her game. Samantha was bombarded with an endless string of civilities, suggestions, and questions. Had she eaten? What food did she like? Did she want to take a shower to wash off the travel grime? How was the baby? How was Liara? Had she seen the news? Had she had any strange dreams? Where would she like to sleep? How soon did she want to get to the hospital? Did any of her clothes need laundering? Did she want a drink? Did she need to put her feet up? And finally, most intriguing of all, did she need a backrub?

Samantha teased Emma. "You're handing out free massages as well? Is there any service you don't provide?"

Emma's eyes widened and her cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red. "Oh, please don't take that the wrong way. I'm not coming onto you, if that's what you're worried about."

Samantha smirked. "That's mildly disappointing."

The remark flustered Emma.

She frowned. "I'm not like her, if that's what you think."

"Relax, I was teasing," said Samantha.

Emma shook her head. "Of course. My apologies, I'm still trying to get to know everyone, and I've spent so much time with Jack lately…"

"Say no more," said Samantha. "Speaking of, how is she doing?"

"She can walk again, that's a bonus," said Emma. "But she's still in pain, and she has a lot of anger, well, I should say she has even more anger than usual. There are nerves that aren't regenerating, so she's frustrated. I try to help, but she pushes me away. Sometimes she says cruel things, and she doesn't do a very good job of listening to her doctors when they tell her to lighten up. She works too hard, because she wants to be out there searching with Ashley and James."

Samantha nodded. "Have they had any luck? Williams, and Vega, I mean."

Emma shook her head. "No, and I think that's what Jack wants to talk to you about. She's convinced Shepard visited her while she was in a coma. I didn't believe it at first, but recently, well… the dreams everyone's been having."

Samantha sighed. "Scientifically speaking, it's impossible for Shepard to communicate with us, even if she was still alive."

"But aren't the Rachni able to communicate long distance without communicators?" asked Emma.

"The queen uses pheromones over a short distance, and over long distance, a type of quantum entanglement. I believe it's a form organic technology that was bio-engineered into their race," explain Samantha.

Emma frowned. "So it's not possible for Shepard to do the same?"

"No," said Samantha. "Not unless she implanted a device in all of our minds, and I'm pretty sure that didn't happen."

"Then how do you explain the dreams?" asked Emma.

Samantha sighed. This was the part she was afraid to discuss.

"Even though the Reapers are dead," explained Samantha. "Their technology still affects us. We see the result when people approach the planet-side wreckage. They suffer a form of indoctrination that presents as dementia, often accompanied by delusions. As they break down, they become sick. They begin to dream of loved ones, of friends lost, and eventually fall into hallucinations."

Emma was concerned. "But the Normandy crew wasn't crawling through wrecks after the war, so how?"

Samantha stared at the floor. "We were all exposed to Reaper Tech on a constant basis when we were fighting the war. I wouldn't be surprised if the dreams we've been having are the first stages of…"

She couldn't finish. Emma grasped her hand over her mouth. She was visibly upset.

"I'm sure you have nothing to worry about," Samantha reassured her.

"I'm not worried about myself. I'm worried about someone else," said Emma.

Samantha assumed it was Jack. She was about to ask when she found herself yawning.

"Let's get you fed and off to sleep," said Emma. "We'll go by the hospital first thing in the morning."

Samantha couldn't agree more. She grabbed a quick shower to wash off the travel grime while Emma prepared a meal for her, a plate of spaghetti which wasn't half bad. She gobbled it up and washed it down with a glass of red wine. By the time the contents of the meal settled into her stomach she was asleep at the table. Emma guided her to a fold-out bed, and that was her last memory of the evening.

* * *

They got an early start on the day. Samantha awoke to the smell of brewing coffee and scrambled eggs. There was also toast with jam. She was surprised Emma could afford such luxuries, considering the strict rationing they were still under.

"You didn't have to do all this, Emma," said Samantha. "I'm fine with protein rations, really."

"Oh, please," said Emma. "I get stuff like this all the time from the commercials I shoot."

"Oh, yes, I almost forgot. I think I saw one the other day as I was passing by a vid screen," said Samantha.

Emma nodded. "My agent has been busy. It really pisses Jack off, though."

Samantha frowned. "Why?"

"She thinks I'm cashing in on Shepard's reputation, and I didn't earn it," said Emma.

"Well, you didn't exactly asked to be made into a clone, and I'm sure the Commander wouldn't mind, especially in light of the last clone's actions. Just don't tarnish her reputation," said Samantha.

"Oh, I won't, I promise," said Emma. "I ask Liara before I sigh any contract. I offered to send some of the credits to her, but she didn't want any of it."

Samantha smiled. "Liara has her own resources."

Emma accepted the explanation without comment. She began clearing the dishes.

Samantha savored the coffee. "Real brewed coffee, from real beans. Wow, this is heaven. This alone was worth the bloody trip out here. Thanks, Emma."

Emma smiled again. Samantha couldn't help notice that she smiled much more often than Shepard, though it lacked the same… infectious quality. The Commander's smile could change the entire mood of a room. Emma's smile, while nice, was merely a decoration.

Samantha set her coffee down. "While I'm thinking about it, I'm going to go run a brush through my hair. I'd rather not show up at the hospital with a cowlick."

She made her way to the bathroom. Looking into the mirror, it became apparent that the situation was worse than she realized. It took a good ten minutes of effort just to get it manageable. She was nearly finished when she heard the front door open.

"Hey baby, Surprise!" said a familiar voice.

' _That sounds just like Captain Williams,_ ' thought Samantha.

On cue, Emma confirmed it. "Ash! What are you doing back so early? You said it would be another wee…"

Samantha heard a rush of movement just as Emma was cut off. She heard a squeal of delight, and turned to peek out the bathroom doorway. What she saw, was Williams manhandling the poor Shepard clone. She'd pushed her onto the sofa, smothering her with kisses and tearing off her clothes. She was shockingly aggressive.

Emma protested. "Ash…"

Captain Williams had Emma's pants halfway to her knees before Samantha regained her wits and announced her presence with the loudest 'a _hem_ ', she could manage. Williams immediately straightened and turned to her with a startled expression. Poor Emma spilled onto the floor while desperately trying to regain her dignity by pulling her pants back up.

The Captain's eyes widened in terror. "Traynor, what the hell?"

Samantha was dangerously close to breaking out into hysterical laughter. Trying to get a grip on herself, she went for the obvious line.

"Came by to visit Jack, got in late, or… early, or whatever time it was. Emma was kind enough to put me up," she explained. "I'm sorry to interrupt!"

The last bit was too tempting to resist. The Captain's face was red enough to cook on, and her best attempts to recover amounted to fumbling words, shifting on her feet, and hem-hawing. Emma came to her rescue.

"Sorry, my fault," said Emma. "Usually when Ash comes through the door, I'm, umm… a bit enthusiastic."

Samantha managed to keep the laughter in check, but she couldn't even come close to suppressing the grin on her face. She'd always been a little bit afraid of Williams back in the Normandy days. She remembered her old Lieutenant Commander as a bit severe, nearly as intimidating as Shepard while lacking the charm or wit of the latter. It was also worth noting that Samantha had never deduced that Williams had a proclivity towards dating members of the same sex.

Captain Williams tried to bargain. "Can we not mention this to anyone else?"

"You have to be joking?" said Samantha. "Captain, I'll be recounting this story often, and probably with embellishment."

"Damn you, Traynor," said Williams.

Samantha grinned. Since she had the upper hand, the strategist in her saw the perfect opportunity to press the advantage.

"So how long have you two… you know?" she asked.

"It's complicated. Captain Williams and Commander Shepard had a bit of a history, and since my brain is a pretty much a tossed salad of the Commander's memories, I was pretty much in love with Ash from the moment I first saw her. It didn't take very long to deduce that she felt the same way about me," said Emma.

"And here I thought I had the pulse of the Normandy via EDI," said Samantha. "But it seems even she missed some things."

"EDI wasn't around in the old days," said Williams. "Also I didn't look at women that way. Not that there is… I mean, I… I don't know what I'm saying, so I'm just going to shut up now."

It was just getting better, and Samantha couldn't help herself.

"Oh, it's no problem, Captain. It's probably just a Shepard thing. She had her ways."

"What do you mean?" asked Williams.

"Oh, you know, the Commander used to slip a little gay into the coffee dispenser now and then," said Samantha.

The expression on the Captain's face was absolutely priceless, a mixture of confusion, and thoughtfulness. Williams was a hell of a soldier, but she wasn't exactly the sharpest blade on the Omni-tool.

Williams was genuinely lost. "How, uh… what?"

Emma buried her head in her hands. "Oh, God, Ash..."

Williams finally came up for air. "Oh, you're teasing me. Great, kick a gal when she's down, Traynor."

"Well, I'm not heartless, so here's a helping hand. A bit of advice, Captain…"

"Just call me Ash, please," said Williams.

"Ok, Ash, stop dwelling on your sexuality," said Samantha.

"What do you mean?" asked Ashley.

"You don't have to define or re-define yourself based on who you happen to fall in love with," said Samantha. "If I suddenly found a man in my life attractive, and wanted to be with him, I'd be quite surprised, but I certainly wouldn't beat myself up over it. We are all subject to change. The human condition is transitive, not static."

Emma poked Ashley in the ribs. "Yea, what she said."

Judging by the expression on Ashley's face, it seemed to click for her. She brightened up almost immediately, at least for now. However, based on what Shepard had told Samantha about Williams's aptitude for self-martyrdom, she'd go back to agonizing over her attraction to Emma within a matter of hours, or at least by the following day.

"Thank you, Traynor," said Ashley.

"You're welcome. Now I'm going to find my way to the hospital to see Jack, and leave you two alone. I should be gone for _hours_ ," emphasized Samantha.

Ashley and Emma exchanged shy glances. Samantha was happy for them, yet at the same time she felt a pang of jealousy. She couldn't get out the door quick enough.

* * *

It took Samantha nearly an hour to find Jack in the hospital. The infamous Subject Zero was on the conditioning treadmill. She was wearing a harness lined with monitoring cables that afforded virtually no modesty or dignity. It looked like some sadistic sexual torture device. Samantha tried to avert her eyes, but she couldn't help but notice Jack's damaged body. Her skin, formerly covered in tattoos, was now lined with fresh scars and stitches. Only a few faint traces of her ink remained. It was shocking to see her this way.

The biotic wasn't very adept at the treadmill. In fact, she was walking about as well as a one-hundred and twenty year old woman. Sweat dripped off her brow as she struggled to pick up each foot and push it forward. Her hands curled loosely around the rails as if the bar was too hot to touch. As unsteady as she was on her feet, Samantha worried Jack could fall at any moment.

Jack spoke up. Her voice was different as well, soft and raspy.

"Go ahead and stare. I sure as shit would. It's not often you get to see someone this fucked up," said Jack.

Samantha frowned. "Is that harness uncomfortable?"

"Oh fuck yea, but I have to wear it anyway," said Jack. "The wires are doing this dermal regeneration thing, and the harness is holding together a bunch of my parts. That Cerberus freak kicked my pelvis the hell in, and tore up my lower intestines and other really important shit I don't even want to talk about."

"Oh, God," said Samantha. "I'm so sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about," said Jack. "I should be so fucking dead right now, but I'm not, so everything I get back is all gravy."

"That's an optimistic way to think of your situation," said Samantha.

"Optimism is all I got, so that's where my head is at right now. I need to get at least halfway back, Traynor. I need to find my girl and Shepard before Cerberus turns them into fertilizer or some fucking melting reaper husk shit."

Samantha nodded. "You asked for me?"

"Yea, in my visions, dreams, or whatever the hell they are, Shepard told me that you could figure out where the relay is. Williams and crew are coming up empty, and the Alliance is leaning on her to drop it. They're half convinced I'm fucking crazy," said Jack.

Samantha rolled her eyes. "Oh, bloody hell, here we go again."

Even though Samantha wasn't convinced herself, there wasn't a single reason not to take Jack seriously. They should at least investigate. The Alliance had to acknowledge that anything was possible at this point.

"Oh yea," said Jack. "Even though the galaxy was nearly wiped out because the politicians ignored the last important vision that came down the tracks, they're insisting on going back to the same old head-in-the-sand bullshit. It's like they are never going to learn. If they're just going to do the same shit, what did we fight for? What was the fucking point?"

"At least they're letting the Salamis search. That's something," said Samantha.

She was getting worried about Jack, whose voice was getting scratchier and thinner by the minute. The red marks around her throat and the metal rods sticking out of the back of her neck indicated that the biotic's head had nearly been severed from the body. It truly was a marvel of modern medicine that she was functional at all.

Still, Jack's troubled voice did not deter her from going on. "Only because Hackett went to the wall for Ash, but now they're trying to force the old man out. Some fucker on Ash's crew betrayed her. They smuggled out a recording of the interrogation of Dr. Cole. Now all these Alliance types are all up in Hackett's shit, and calling for Ash's head on a platter. They want to bring her up on charges."

"They can't do that, a Spectre has Council authority to use whatever methods she deems necessary," said Traynor.

"It's a new galaxy, a much smaller one," said Jack. "The new Alliance President wants the Council to disband the Spectres or else put them under the authority of C-Sec. She is threatening to take the recording public unless they convene hearings, and that would be bad, because Ash put the hurt on that woman."

Samantha couldn't believe it. "But that would destroy Ash's reputation."

"Or get her Court-martialed and put in jail," said Jack.

"I can't believe they would do that to her. She's a war hero," said Samantha.

"You haven't seen the vid," said Jack. "I've heard its some rough shit. I'm not sure you'd even have the stomach for it, Traynor."

Samantha sighed. "You're right. I probably wouldn't like it, but it was necessary, wasn't it?"

"It depends on your point of view. Shepard would have handled it differently. The Girl Scout had a pretty defined sense of morality, plus she had that charming shit going on, so she could get information without blood," said Jack. "Of course, Cole sold Miri out, so I would have done a hell of a lot worse. I would have cut her fuckin' parts off if I'd been in there."

Samantha laughed nervously. "Remind me never to cross you."

Before Jack could respond, an attendant came into the room. She used an Omni-tool to read some information, then disabled the treadmill.

"Ok, Ms. Nought, that's enough exercise for the day," she said.

Jack grumbled. "I could go a little more."

"No, and why are you talking?" said the woman. "I told you to avoid talking. Your vocal chords are still healing. Now come here."

The attendant helped Jack off the treadmill and guided her to a special gravity-chair. It took nearly five minutes to situate her in the chair. There were special seat and back cushions that utilized mass effect fields and chemicals to ensure that Jack's skin grafts and stitches did not peel or tear when she was seated. Afterwards, the woman hooked up several attachments to the strange harness. Samantha recognized a dialysis machine and a colostomy cylinder built into the chair. She couldn't imagine how miserable Jack must be, and yet the biotic showed no outward signs of discouragement. Her bravery was impressive.

The attendant administered medication through the tubes, then made her way to the door.

"I'll give you ten more minutes, then I have to take Ms. Nought back to her regeneration tank," said the attendant.

"Oh great, back to the slime bath for the afternoon," croaked Jack.

The attendant angrily tapped on Jack's chair controls. Jack activated the control on the chair and used a voice machine to finish her conversation with Samantha. The attendant, finally satisfied, left them alone.

" _The relay, I need you to find that relay,_ " it said.

Samantha didn't understand why the Shepard in Jack's head should expect such a thing.

"I'm a com specialist, not a navigator," explained Samantha.

" _There's a reason,_ " said Jack's voice machine. " _Shepard thought you were the person to solve it for a reason._ "

Samantha shook her head. "It still doesn't make any sense. I have no com signals to track. The Cerberus ship was using stealth technology, so we have no frame of reference to go on. We don't know where they came in, or what direction they were going when they left."

" _Maybe you're thinking about it wrong,_ " said the machine. " _Petrovsky is a clever bastard._ "

"Oh!" said Samantha.

She slapped her forehead with her hand. "Bloody hell, I should have known, it's Petrovsky! He and I have one thing in common."

What was that Shepard said in her dream? ' _I'll play for keeps._ ' It was the clue she was looking for. Maybe there was something to the dreams after all.

"What's that?" asked the machine.

"An appreciation of the game of chess," said Samantha. "And I bet the coordinates of the relay have to do with algebraic notation. All I need to do is figure out the layout of the board, the grid I mean. It could be tricky, but Aimee will help. I need to get back home!"

" _Who the fuck is Aimee?_ " asked Jack's machine.

"Uh, EDI's daughter," said Samantha.

" _Say what?_ "

Samantha smiled. "It's quite a long story, more than ten minutes."

Jack's eyes shot daggers at Samantha, who shrugged innocently.

"You could have just written me, you know," said Samantha.

" _I don't trust any communications leaving this place. There's over fifty thousand people in this tin can. Could be a Cerberus mole or two, or even a com bug,_ " said the machine.

"Or a communication virus compiling data," said Samantha.

" _See? That's what I'm talking about,_ " said the machine.

Samantha sighed. "You're right, of course. I just dread the trip back."

" _Ash will take you in the Salamis. They'll have you home in no time at all,_ " said the machine.

"That works for me," said Samantha. "And Jack, get better… please."

Jack grimaced. " _Do you think about her, still? Allers, I mean?_ "

Samantha nodded. "Every single day."

" _I know the chances are slim that Miri's still alive after being in that freak's hands for so long, and I worry that if I do find her alive, she won't be the same person. The shit Cerberus can do to you, I know what they can take from you,_ " said the machine.

"I'll find it, we'll get her back, Shepard too," said Samantha.

Jack turned her mouth into a wistful smile. " _I hated her the minute I saw her, Miri, I mean, and I didn't much care for the Girl Scout either, standing there on that prison station, telling me I had to come with them in their fucking Cerberus ship, but now… I couldn't imagine my life without them. All the shit that Cerberus took from me, they gave back, and more, and they wouldn't even take credit for it, they'd just tell me how it was all me._ "

Samantha mused. "I don't know Miranda that well, but that's Shepard, all right."

"Find them, Traynor," said Jack, using her real voice.

"I will, I promise," said Samantha.

She didn't feel the promise was in vain, despite the odds against it. What she was attempting was like playing Blindfold Chess against Petrovsky, but it was, after all, chess, and that was her game.

* * *

 **Up Next:** It all hits the fan.


	41. The Board Is Set

_Sorry for the delay. Had to split a chapter again..._

* * *

" _A Wise Man makes his own decisions, an ignorant man follows the public opinion._ "

Grantland Rice

June 12th, 2188

 **Ashley Williams**

* * *

Ashley was seated in an interview room on Eirene S4, an old 3He processing station that was partially destroyed by the Reapers and recently repaired and refitted to serve as a temporary civilian law facility. She'd come here voluntarily to file legal documents in hopes of blocking the public release of the surveillance video of her interrogation of Dr. Cole.

As a Spectre, she was immune to prosecution for her actions, but in the court of public opinion her reputation would take a hit. Ashley had fought hard to restore the Williams name, and she'd be damned if she'd let it get smeared again, not only for her, but for her children and grandchildren, and the way Emma had been talking lately, children might come sooner rather than later.

She'd spent most of the morning trying to cut through red tape, and then everything seemed to clear up. She'd been pointed in the direction of a clerk who was willing to take care of things, but then her situation had gone askew. A couple of nervous looking guards insisted on relieving her of her sidearm. Shortly after, she found herself in an interview room and on the defensive.

"Please state your name, rank, and birth date," said the interviewer.

Ashley answered in a flat tone of voice. "Ashley Williams, Captain, April 14th, 2158."

"Race?" asked the interviewer.

"Human," said Ashley.

"I meant lineage," said the man.

Ashley frowned. "I don't know for sure on my father's side. It's a number of things, primarily African American, and on my mother's side, Irish, Welsh, Mexican, and Russian. Does it matter?"

"All the questions matter, Captain Williams," said the interviewer.

Ashley gritted her teeth. "Whatever."

More questions followed.

"What is your blood type?"

"B Positive."

"Genetic modifications?"

"In-utero vision correction, Alliance Infantry, Class B upgrades, Alliance Officer, Class M7 Specialist Upgrades, and Citadel Spectre G-Mod package HA-41."

"Number of confirmed kills in combat?"

"I have no idea."

"Any rough estimate?"

"Including husks, Geth, and all the other Reaper soldiers, I don't know, maybe thousands."

"That's a lot of killing."

"I suppose."

"You lost your entire family when the Reapers took control of the Citadel?"

"Yea."

"I have no record you saw a psychiatrist or a grief counselor."

"Hasn't been time. Friends helped me through it, though."

"But have you dealt with it?"

"I'd rather not discuss it."

"I see…"

The interviewer made an entry and began reviewing notes on her pad. "When did you first meet Dr. Brynn Cole?"

"Um, sometime in late November or December of 2186, at a Cerberus base. She was the head of a splinter group we rescued," said Ashley.

"So, to your best knowledge she had broken ties with Cerberus," said the interviewer.

Ashley paused. "What's going on here? I'm supposed to be filing documents to suppress the release of the tape, but it sounds like you're interrogating me for other purposes."

"We are trying to determine if you should be arrested," said the interviewer.

"I can't be arrested, I'm a Spectre," said Ashley.

"Spectre is a Council privilege, and as of two hours ago, Humanity is no longer part of the Council. Thus you are subject to the full prosecution of the law, under Alliance Regulations," said the interview.

Ashley was shocked. "What?"

"You heard me," said the interviewer. "Parliament voted just two hours ago."

"That's insane," said Ashley. "We need the Council…"

"President Murrain and Parliament felt otherwise. Counselor Osaba has been recalled," said the interviewer.

"You dumbasses," said Ashley.

"Excuse me?" said the interviewer.

"We spent decades trying to get a seat on the Council and you just gave it up, I can't believe it," said Ashley.

"Nevertheless we have," said the interviewer. "It would…"

A bang on the exterior of the room interrupted them. It was followed by the sound of small weapons fire. Ashley reached for her gun out of instinct, only realizing at the last instant that she wasn't armed. She left her chair, moved across the room to the protection of the wall, and prepared an ambush on the next person who came through the door. When it opened, she readied herself for the strike.

Fortunately, she heard James Vega's voice call into the room. "Williams, you in there?"

"James, what the hell is going on?" she wondered.

"Hell if I know," said Vega. "A bunch of civilians have been disrupting communications and passing regulations with no backing. Hackett just declared Martial Law. We're in charge now."

"Shit," said Ashley. "You mean the military just staged a coup?"

"Uh, have no idea who's staging what. I don't know about the politics of it," said Vega. "But the Council is backing Hackett."

Three soldiers came into the room and collected the interviewer who was protesting. Ashley watched the whole thing unfold with wary satisfaction.

"This is a slippery slope," she commented.

"Yea, let's walk and talk," said Vega.

He handed her a pistol and led her out of the room, passing over the bodies of the two dead guards. Ashley shook her head, looking down.

"God, James, was that necessary?" she asked.

Vega nodded. "Hell yes, these pendejos were under orders to execute you once they got the information they needed."

Ashley shook her head. "I knew something was up, but these idiots had no chance. One of them didn't even know how to hold a gun the right way. Doubt he could have tagged me if he had me point blank."

"Well, we weren't going to take any chances. Two other officers were detained, and one was shot and killed a few hours ago," said Vega.

"This is crazy," said Ashley.

"Yea, I know," said Vega. "Hackett was trying to play nice with the civilian government, but someone has been stirring the pot. A whole lot of shit went down this morning. The civilians made their move, and then some of our own officers tried to come after Hackett. Don't know what they were thinking but it got ugly."

"They're crazy, are they trying to create anarchy? Could this be some left over indoctrination shit?" wondered Ashley.

"Have no idea, it's all fucking loco to me," said Vega.

As they passed through the docking arm, Ashley noticed more soldiers coming onto the station. A shuttle was waiting for them. Only a few minutes later, they were on their way to the Everest. Once they docked, they disembarked, found a forward transit tube, and entered. Ten minutes later they stood on the Everest's CIC, facing the Admiral.

Ashley and James snapped to attention and saluted, barking "Sir" in unison.

"At ease, Captain, Major," said the old man. "And follow me."

Admiral Hackett led Ashley and James down the recess area behind the conn. They found themselves in a circular room filled with seats, backed up by several communication arrays. It was nearly a perfect replica of the communication and conference room on the old Normandy SR1, though much larger in scale.

"Well, damn it all," said Hackett.

"Sir?" Ashley inquired.

Hackett looked weary. "Hundreds of years of democracy just went down the shitter. I am unofficially a dictator, but what else could I do?"

"You had no choice, Sir," said Vega.

"You don't need to remind me of that, Vega," said Hackett.

Ashley was in disbelief. "What exactly happened? How did Cerberus pull this off?"

The Admiral folded his arms. "Our strategists are trying to figure it out, but I don't think it was Cerberus. We intercepted their flag ship just a few days ago. It was destroyed near the Exodus Relay by our repair task force."

"Then who?" wondered Ashley.

"I'd rather keep my suspicions to myself at the moment, but it may be a faction within the Salarian government. They may have gotten wind of a pact we made with the Krogans and the Turians," said Hackett.

Ashley didn't understand. "Pact?"

"The Krogan are unpredictable," said Hackett. "And they reproduce quickly. They will be a power again whether we like it or not. I made the decision to cash in on the goodwill Shepard created with the Krogan and form a closer alliance with them. I also included the Turians. It was a bold move, but also one that Dalatrass Linron, wherever she is, would be opposed to. She was angry enough with Shepard's decision to cure the Genophage as it was."

"But she's all the way back on Sur'Kesh," said Vega.

"And Sur'Kesh is now in communication with the Council," explained Hackett. "The Widow Relay will be open in a few weeks. At that time, Thessia, Sur'Kesh, Earth, and Palaven will all be accessible. Irune will be online shortly after."

"This is good news," said Ashley.

"Notice I did not say Tuchanka?" said Hackett.

"Ah, I see, the bastards are cutting the Krogan out," said Vega.

Hackett nodded. "I dispatched the Normandy months ago to get to the Krogan Relay and see that it was repaired. The Krogan are at a disadvantage when it comes to engineering and science, and right now Tuchanka appears to be in a grave situation. It's much worse there than on Earth. The Primarch wanted Garrus on-hand, just in case the Salarians tried something unconscionable. With the relays in the condition they are in, it wouldn't take much to sabotage one during the repair process."

"Shit, and that would cut them off from supplies, even if they survived the relay explosion," said Vega.

"Would the Salarians really do that though?" wondered Ashley. "Exterminate the Krogan race out of fear of what might happen?"

"All it takes to make a decision like that is one small faction. A Salarian STG team could go in, take out the relay, and make it look like a Krogan mistake—problem solved." said Hackett.

"That's pure evil, man," said Vega.

Hackett sighed. "It's easy for us to act benevolent. We never endured the Krogan Rebellions. Imagine how we would feel if the Batarian Hegemony was set up to rebound and multiply in strength a hundredfold in the next century, considering all that's happened in the past. Would we not consider preemptive action?"

"But the Turians were ok with it," said Ashley. "And…"

"Not all the Turians," said Hackett. "It was Primarch Victus who made that call, and there are many who opposed him. They were silenced only by the desperate situation on Palaven, but now that the war is over, there could be contention within the Turian ranks, which is why we need to move quickly to help Tuchanka and get the new order off the ground."

"Our government falling apart isn't going to make that easy," said Ashley.

"My thoughts exactly, Williams," said Hackett.

Ashley considered it for a moment. "You don't think?"

"That is exactly what I think," said Hackett. "I've had intelligence going through your crew with a fine tooth comb to figure out who leaked the interrogation of Dr. Cole. We've found nothing, but then an analyst became suspicious about the equipment in the brig."

Ashley remembered that many of the security features on the Salamis incorporated Salarian designs and systems.

"Those slimy Salarian bastards bugged my ship," she said.

"Agreed," said Hackett. "I've assigned Samantha Traynor to the Salamis. She's been going over your ship. If there's any unauthorized communication device…"

Ashley nodded. "Traynor will find it, she's the best."

Hackett looked thoughtful. "But that's not why I've asked you here."

Ashley shifted nervously. "Sir?"

"Williams, I'm assigning you a taskforce. Use the ships I give you to do a thorough search of all systems within three hundred light years of the Arcturus Relay. Find that Cerberus Relay, wherever it is, and bring our girl home," said Hackett.

"Shepard, you mean," said Ashley.

"Yes," said Hackett.

James Vega shook his head. "So you believe she's actually out there, Sir?"

"Yes, I do," said Hackett. "Call it intuition, a gut feeling, or whatever you want, but I'm convinced there's something to this. Which is why I'm assigning you to the Salamis. If we find that relay, there's no telling what might be on the other side of it. Put together a squad of your best, and report to Williams when you're ready."

Vega saluted the Admiral. "Yes, Sir."

Hackett nodded. "Dismissed, Vega."

James made his exit from the communication room. Afterwards, Hackett turned to Ashley and pointed out a light that started blinking on one of the QEC relays.

"An old friend would like to speak with you, Williams. I'll leave you to it," said the Admiral.

After he exited the room, Ashley stood in front of the QEC and initiated it, not knowing who to expect. When Garrus Vakarian's image flickered in front of her eyes, it was a welcome sight.

"Garrus!" said Ashley.

"Good to see you, Ash," said Garrus. "As old friends, and as a fellow Spectre."

"So, I hear you're out at Tuchanka," she said.

Garrus sighed. "Just a few days away, and the situation isn't looking very good."

"Well, that's why they send us Spectres in," said Ashley.

"Yea, I know," said Garrus. "I sure wish I'd thought of that when I signed up for this gig."

Ashley smiled. "Oh come on, Garrus, you like being in the thick of it."

The Turian shook his head. "Oh, I don't know about that anymore. Back on Rannoch, I promised Shepard that if we lived through the Reaper War we were going to retire and open up a bar. Of course, Shepard insisted it should be on a tropical beach. So I try to explain to her that I don't swim. She just shakes her head and says, ' _Garrus, when you see how small my bikini is, water will be the last thing on your mind._ '"

Ashley laughed. "God, she was such a shameless tease."

Garrus nodded. "And because I couldn't get the image out of my head the rest of the mission, I almost got dropped by a Geth, who managed to sneak up on me in stealth."

Ashley smirked. "I thought you didn't like the way human females look."

"Well, there's human females, and then there are the women of the Normandy. They're… well, in a different category," said Garrus.

"I'll take that as a compliment," said Ashley.

"You should, and you're welcome," said Garrus.

"So, have you heard what's going on?" asked Ashley.

"Yea, Hackett's been keeping me up to date," said Garrus. "Not to mention the dreams some of us have been having, Joker, myself, even Dr. Chakwas. It can't be a coincidence, so, either Shepard is out there somewhere, or we're all going crazy from the Reaper Tech we were exposed to."

Ashley shrugged. "I have no idea, but I think… yea, I think she's out there. Even if it's just her remains. Cerberus has no right to them. They belong to Liara."

"Then you've got to find out what's going on, and if they do have a body, get it away from Cerberus," said Garrus.

"That's the plan," said Ashley. "If I can figure out how."

"Rely on your team," said Garrus. "Let them know you have confidence in them, and they'll help you find a way."

"You make it sound easy. I haven't been making the best decisions. I crossed lines I never thought I'd cross," said Ashley.

"I may have heard a little something about that," said Garrus.

"This Spectre thing…" Ashley paused. "Should we have that much authority?"

"My father once told me that regs are there to keep us from justifying actions that will come back to bite us in the ass," said Garrus. "I didn't agree at the time. I was convinced that most of it was red tape designed to stop good soldiers and police from getting the job done, but in retrospect there is wisdom in what my father and Shepard were always trying to tell me. Occasionally, yes, you do have to break a rule, but most of the time it really doesn't work out. I even have an example."

"Do tell," said Ashley.

"Some people, though not many, made it off the Citadel and escaped the Reapers when they seized it. I was going over the stories. A former C-Sec deadbeat, a guy called Harkin, remember him?" asked Garrus.

"Yea, I remember that asshole," said Ashley.

"I was going to shoot him in the leg, and Shepard stopped me. I saw the name come up in one of the stories. He helped a shuttle of civilians, mostly displaced war orphans, off the Citadel. While the Reapers were bearing down, he carried three kids to the shuttle, then he shut the doors. The last anyone saw of him, he was fighting husks to cover the shuttle's escape." Garrus shook his head. "The self-centered bastard died a hero. If I would have given him a bum leg…"

"He wouldn't have been able to save those kids," said Ashley.

"He might not have even attempted it," said Garrus. "Even if someone appears to be worthless, you can't always predict every outcome."

"So don't play God," said Ashley.

"Not the words I would choose, but it's the same idea," said Garrus.

"Now I feel even worse," said Ashley.

"You don't have time for that," said Garrus. "You know what Shepard would say?"

"Do it better next time," said Ashley.

Garrus nodded. "Good luck, Williams."

"You too, and Garrus… thanks," said Ashley.

The Turian acknowledged her shortly before his image flickered and vanished.

* * *

Ashley stood at her command post on the Salamis staring at Samantha Traynor in disbelief. The Specialist looked especially pleased, and was holding her hands behind her back as if to conceal something.

"You found it already?"

"Communication devices are my specialty," said Traynor.

"We had an entire Alliance team going over this ship," said Ashley.

"Not me," said Traynor.

Ashley shook he head. "Damn, Traynor, that's impressive. Can you stay on?"

"That's the plan," said Traynor.

Ashley was relieved. "Ok, Specialist Traynor, the next thing we need…"

"Uh, Ma'am? If you're asking about the Cerberus Relay, I'm pretty sure I know where it is," said Traynor.

Ashley was skeptical. "So, you found it on my ship?"

"No," said Traynor. "Here…"

She showed Ashley what she was holding, a chess board. Ashley had seen it before, in Shepard's quarters on the Normandy.

Traynor began to explain. "The Commander gave this to me as an early birthday gift, just hours before we jumped to the Sol Relay for the final attack. She said that Aria sent it to her. It belonged to Petrovsky, and it was meant as sort of a trophy. In Jack's dream… well, long story short, it had all of Petrovksy's games stored on it. Remember what Emma overhead, and you said were lines from poems?"

"Yes," said Ashley. "The poems about Amaranthine and Benning."

"Right," said Traynor. "So, I used those two points as references. I created a chess grid, presuming that Amaranthine and Benning were the center points of Qd8, and Qd1. Then I had Aimee run a simulation of all of Petrovsky's games. There is one, in particular, that he loved the most. Levitsky vs. Marshall, played in 1912…"

Ashley cleared her throat. "Traynor…"

Traynor stood up straighter. "Oh, right, Ma'am, cut to the chase. G3 on my grid. The relay is going to be on G3, right here."

Traynor marked a location on the Galaxy Map in deep space.

"Shit," said Ashley. "It's way out there on the way to the Exodus Relay. It will take the Salamis weeks, and months for most other Alliance ships. Are you sure about this?"

Traynor nodded. "Reasonably sure, Ma'am."

"Good work, Traynor," said Ashley. "I'll let Admiral Hackett know."

Ashley stared at the Galaxy Map in dismay, realizing that her taskforce had all but evaporated. The Salamis was going in alone.

* * *

Up Next: **Assault on Amaranthine**


	42. Assault on Amaranthine (Part One)

_Ashley's shakedown of the Cerberus Base goes sideways when the Wraiths show up. This chapter has blown up into three parts now... still one to go._

* * *

 _"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,  
Do you bring no sign from my true love?"  
"I bring a lock of 'air that 'e allus used to wear,  
An' you'd best go look for a new love."_

Rudyard Kipling

June 29th, 2188

 **Ashley Williams  
**

 **Jack Nought  
**

* * *

Ashley Williams had three ships under her command—the Salamis, the Brilliant Wind, and the Deliverance. Each was one of the fastest ships in their respective fleets—Systems Alliance, Asari, and Turian. In addition, all three ships had Cerberus IFF's installed, which allowed them to traverse the Cerberus Relay and travel to the Horsehead Nebula, arriving not far from an old Cerberus facility called Minuteman Station. The station had been reduced to debris, perhaps during the Reaper War, but it was irrelevant now. Their destination was the Fortuna System.

She sat in the conference room with several comrades she never thought she'd see again. Javik and Samara, who had recently returned from the Exodus Taskforce, insisted on being a part of this operation, and Ashley was happy to have them. If there were any more Cerberus Operatives like Nicholas, a Prothean and an Asari Justicar could mean the difference between life and death.

Kasumi was also present, which was curious. From everything Ashley had read in the file, Ms. Goto wasn't known for her heroism. Ashley suspected there was a personal motivation behind her presence, which probably had to do with the deaths of Zaeed and Olivia Free, but she didn't question the thief's interest in the mission. The Cerberus facility they'd be raiding would have top end security, which Kasumi was more than capable of handling.

Jack had insisted on coming as well, and though Ashley couldn't deny her, she suspected the once powerful biotic was more of a liability than an asset. She was still months away from a full recovery, and there was no way of telling where her head was. Ashley didn't want to come out and say it, but she planned on assigning Prangley the task of keeping Jack safe and out of the way.

Liara had transmitted classified files that detailed several Cerberus bases. These were matched to construction records that EDI had extracted from Cronos Station. Ashley had no idea how Liara had been able to access EDI's files, but she was grateful. It gave them a good sense of the layout of the base. Further analysis had indicated there was a lab facility that bore a striking resemblance to the one that was used by the Lazarus Research Facility. Ashley inhaled slowly. It was likely that Emma was born in that lab. What if there was another Shepard clone? She shook it off and highlighted an area on the map.

"Major," she said. "I want your team to assault the hangar in conjunction with the Turians, here. You'll need charges to break the lockdown arms on the lifts. It's more than likely you'll be facing two or three Atlas Mechs and a fire team supporting each. The Deliverance will cover you in case Cerberus gets fighters airborne, and if you can't break the lockdown arms, Captain Tarryn will use heavy weapons to blast through."

"So, we may be crawling through hot metal," said Vega. "Good to know."

"I'll be leading my team, Javik, Samara, a fire team of Turian Saboteurs, and a squad of Asari Commandos through the front door, here. We'll be facing the bulk of Cerberus's defense forces, but we'll have plenty of barriers, kinetic shielding, and turrets. They won't stand a chance against us," said Ashley.

"And where the hell will I be?" asked Jack.

Ashley knew this was coming, but she was ready. "You'll be leading a team here. There's a communications array that Traynor has to tap into, and then right here is a side entrance that's likely to have a strong security system, so Kasumi will accompany you. We're also sending Prangley, Cruz, and Duckworth along for additional support."

Jack nodded as she stared at the display. Ashley expected her to protest, but she didn't. Still, Ashley felt the need to explain the situation.

"Jack," she said. "That door leads straight to the cell block. There will be guards in there, and when we begin our assault on the base they might start executing prisoners. It's crucial that doesn't happen. I need you and your team to eliminate those guards quickly."

If Jack was considering an argument, she'd dropped it as soon as Ashley said the word prisoners. The look on her face was plain as day. If Miranda was still alive, it's likely she was going to be located in that cell block, and that's where Jack wanted to be.

Ashley leaned forward in her seat. "If you see any flaws in the plan, let me know now."

Vega shook his head. "Looks solid to me, Captain."

"It is a well-conceived assault, impressive," said Javik.

"I agree," said Samara. "Unless we are facing a vastly superior force, which I highly doubt, we should be able to infiltrate their base and bring our enemy to heel quickly, then I want to find this Commander Nicholas and end her."

"That sounds personal," said Kasumi.

"It is," said Samara. "As a Justicar, I am obligated to put down the wicked and cruel. Zaeed was a comrade, Jack and Miranda as well, and Shepard; there are no words to adequately describe what Shepard means to me."

Ashley stared at the map. "I suspect she'll be at the forefront of their defenses, which is why I want Samara and Javik with me."

Ashley stared at Jack, who was still silent on the matter.

"Well then," said Ashley. "Let's get some sleep. We're twenty hours out, so now is the time."

Ashley dismissed the room, but Jack stayed behind as she expected.

Ashley started. "Jack…"

"I get it," said Jack. "I'm in no condition to take on Nicholas, so you're keeping me out of the loop, making sure I get the easy job."

Ashley sighed. "I don't…"

Jack shook her head. "No apologies, Williams, like I said, I get it. It's a good call."

Ashley was more than a little confused, and suspicious of Jack's behavior. Nothing in her personal file pointed to 'reasonable'.

Jack stared at Ashley as if she'd read her mind. "I'm not the same, and it's not just that I'm in bad shape, it's that I see things differently. If this were old me right now, I'd be raging, but I don't feel it. I don't care about vengeance anymore. I don't give a shit about that Cerberus psycho, so yea, if you, and Beetlejuice, and Samara want to put her down, fine by me. I just want Miri back, and I want Shepard back, or at least I went to get her body out of the hands of those Cerberus fucks, and then I say we just make a crater where this base used to be, and we go home."

Ashley nodded. "That's the plan, Jack."

"Just be careful," said Jack. "Nicholas is no fucking joke."

"Yea, I saw that firsthand," said Ashley, "but I can handle myself."

"Ash," said Jack.

"Yes?"

"I mean it. You're not straight, and you're going into a dangerous situation. You saw how that worked out for me," said Jack.

Ashley didn't understand where Jack was coming from. "I'm fine, really."

"You don't look fine," said Jack. "That vid that's going around, the one with you beating on Cole to get information? Yea, that one. It would fuck with anyone's head, and I'm not even going to get into you playing house with Shepard's clone."

"I'm not playing house," said Ashley. "Emma and I are in love."

"Emma doesn't even know who she is yet. Physically, she's an adult, but mentally? She's less than two years old, and she's got a patchwork of someone else's memories crammed in her brain. How can she be in love?" asked Jack.

Ashley was irritated. "Where the hell is this coming from?"

Jack glared at her. "You're in charge, so I just want to make sure you're living in reality. If you go in there trying to prove yourself all over again because your rep's taken a hit, you'll get yourself killed."

Jack leaned forward, glaring at Ashley with intensity. "I also want to make sure you know that it's Shepard down here, the real Shepard. She's not the piece of ass you have waiting for you in your little love nest back on the station. Shit is real now, and there's no telling what they've done to her. They've had her for almost a year. This is Cerberus, they're evil as all fuck. They could have turned her into one of those phantoms, or some other fucked up shit, and you have to deal with it. You've got to make that call, so you need to figure out how it's going to go down. Don't think of Emma, or the vid, or any of the shit that's behind us. Focus on what's ahead and how you're going to deal with it."

Jack stood up and limped out of the conference room, leaving Ashley in silent contemplation.

* * *

Jack sat alone at the table, sipping her coffee carefully. She had a thing about hot liquids now; for some reason they hurt the fuck out of her artificial teeth. Yea, artificial teeth, set in an artificial jaw, and all of it sewn together with transplanted tissue and skin grafts just a few weeks ago, because Nicholas had smashed her fucking face and head in. Jack knew that she shouldn't be alive, but she was, and she planned on staying that way.

She hadn't lost her acerbic tongue, or her unique way of looking at the world, but she had lost a large portion of her rage. It was just gone. All the pain, all the torment, the shit that used to piss her off and drive her forward, well, it didn't seem as important now. What was important was being alive. That's the one thing that didn't used to matter that much. She'd always been pretty flippant about her own life—live or die, who gave a fuck?

Now she gave a fuck. She gave two or three fucks, actually. It had started the second that Shepard helped her blow up the Pragia facility. That's when she'd started living a little bit, became a part of something other than herself and her pain. Before that, she'd just gone through life like and automaton—sleeping, waking, eating, drinking, shitting, pissing, fucking, hating, getting high, and killing. It was a hazy dream that only approximated a life.

It was caring about something that made life worth living. She'd always considered that having something to lose was a weakness, but in reality, it was the opposite. It turned out that having something to lose meant having something to look forward to, something to be happy about. Life filled with lines, colors, smells, tastes, and even feelings. After the suicide mission through the Omega Relay, the details got sharper, and it all came into focus, even the feelings, especially the feelings.

The way she felt when Shepard walked through the Normandy and looked everyone in the eyes, knowing they'd done the impossible without losing a single member of the team, well, that was something. They'd done some shit together, and she felt pride, in herself, her team, and most of all, her Commander. That was the moment she'd decided not to kill the cheerleader. Lawson had proven herself by telling the Illusive Man and Cerberus to fuck off, so Jack decided that she deserved to take that next breath. That was a good call.

An even better call was accepting the teaching job at Grissom. All those dumbass kids, the way they looked up to her, well, it meant something. The way the little fuckers would hang on her words, or smile when she praised them, made her feel like she was worth a shit. Every battle she got them through gave her life weight. Every time she made a connection, she felt more substantial in body and spirit.

She remembered how good she felt at Shepard's party, surrounded by people who gave a shit about her, and meant something to her, even the cheerleader. Suddenly, flipping Miranda shit wasn't about anger, but fun, a little competition, and, honestly, attraction. She noticed Lawson's so called 'perfection' for the first time. The way that stupid, slutty outfit fit snug on her body. It wasn't just the body, but the face, the hair, and the way her eyes lit up when she gave shit back to Jack, how delighted she was when she landed a counterblow.

It was then that Shepard caught the spark, saw Jack staring and outed her, outed them both, and just like everything Shepard threw, it stuck. It was all Jack could think about the following day. Miri had told her the same. Weeks later, she was out there in a hellish war with her kids, against an impossible enemy, and she was actually stupid enough to believe they were going to win. They were fighting for a life, the chance to live. It happened. She and her kids got through it, and who was the first person she saw?

She didn't believe in higher powers, or gods, or any of that bullshit, or did she? What if there was something out there, maybe a force, like fate, or destiny. If that was the case, then fate had a sense of humor, throwing Miranda in her path once more. Jack thought of all the crazy shit that had to happen in order for Miranda and her to become lovers.

Miranda had no chance of being alive, or did she? Jack shook her head. She was alive, and she shouldn't be, so why not Miri? It was that fate thing again. There was a chance, and if fate was an actual thing, or force, or whatever the fuck it was, then there was more than a chance. It freaked her out just thinking about it.

She stared at her coffee cup. It was empty. Ashley's voice sounded overhead, something about the Fortuna System. They were an hour away. Jack stood up and tried her best to walk to her ready station without a limp.

* * *

The Salamis went in first, cloaked. The other two ships were in sensor range, just far enough off that Cerberus would be looking away when Ashley dropped on top of them, or at least that was the plan, but right away, nothing turned out as expected. Her squad was ready in the shuttle when they approached, but the Cerberus base was already under attack. There were blast marks on ramparts. Wisps of thin smoke spiraled upward through the dusky purple haze, and within the base, flickering lights.

Cerberus was under siege, but from what? Cortez brought the Salamis around for another pass, this time lower, using the ship's visual optics, and that's when she saw it on her feed. There, sitting in the frozen, aluminum oxide dust, was a ship. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. The hull appeared to be made of a stone-like substance instead of metal. It reminded her of black shale. Its frame was reminiscent of an old hypersonic test craft from earth's mid twentieth century, yet it was more organic looking than technological. Waspish was the only descriptor that came to mind.

Dust rose around the craft as it lifted into the atmosphere, and then it shot away, vanishing from the feed. Ashley had prepared for many things, but certainly not this.

She jumped on the com. "What the hell was that, and where did it go?"

"No idea," said Cortez. "It's a ghost, like us. There's nothing on the sensors, and I don't think they saw us. They took off as soon as the Brilliant and the Deliverance began orbital approach."

"Did anyone get an idea of how big it was?" asked Ashley.

"Small frigate," said Cortez.

Ashley took Steve's word for it. The pilot of the Salamis knew his birds.

"Should I break off?" asked Cortez.

"Negative," said Ashley. "We're going in. Get back and cover the Deliverance and the Brilliant, but stay cloaked until they make a move. It's clear that whatever it was, it couldn't see the Salamis."

With that, both shuttles dropped out of the belly of the ship and began their descent. Ashley unlocked the safety on her Typhoon. Sergeant Turay was checking the action on his Falcon, and Javik, who was sitting across from her, appeared to be nervous, which was unusual. Normally, the Prothean was calm and meditative, even during the roughest combat drops.

She tilted her chin in Javik's direction. "It's been awhile since we've done this."

Javik's blinked multiple eyes. "That is not it, Captain, I sense…"

Ashley frowned. "Did you recognize the ship?"

"No," said Javik, "but I have forgotten many things."

Ashley felt the shuttle's mass effect field shift as it released countermeasures to ensure the landing site was clear of mines. The second shuttle split away to the western side of the base. Shortly thereafter, they set down. Once her squad was out of the shuttle they split into four separate fire teams. The first two teams advanced in formation, each with a support team guarding their flank. They went in silent, using hand signals. As they approached the front entrance of the base, it was clear that the perimeter had already been breached. They came across a dead sentry with Cerberus markings, and then another.

Cortez's voice crackled on her com. "Alien vessel is hostile, I repeat, vessel is hostile. The Brilliant has sustained heavy damage. The Deliverance returned fire, but the enemy went off the grid."

Ashley had no choice but to break silence. "Williams to Tarryn, use your ship to shield the Brilliant. Don't try to return fire. Cortez, trail and stay cloaked. As soon as the enemy attacks, return fire with the main guns. They'll have to show themselves when they fire, and they still don't know you're there. You'll get one shot. Make it count."

Before Ashley could make a tactical call, Samara got her attention. She signaled that another channel was open, then sent its frequency on her Omni-tool. Ashley opened the channel.

"This is Williams, who's on this channel?" she said.

"Ashley Williams?" asked a voice. "Thank God. My name is Hadley. I used to serve on the Normandy."

"You're still with Cerberus? What the fuck, Hadley," said Jack.

Hadley groaned. "Listen, we don't have time for this. Our facility is under attack by an alien infiltration team. They showed up this morning. They've been patiently fighting their way through the base using advanced cloaking devices. They aren't just killing personnel, they're taking prisoners. When it all went to hell, I set Lawson free, and she told me to hold up in the med lab. It's the most secure location in the base, aside from the prison cells, but it won't be for much longer."

"Where's Miri?" asked Jack.

"Don't know," said Hadley. "I lost contact with her hours ago."

"You fuck," said Jack. "You think we're going to bail you're ass out?"

"Yea," said Hadley. "I'm protecting Shepard's body, or what's left of it."

Jack broke into expletives.

Cortez came in on the other channel. "Captain, we're coming in hot. We got in our licks, but the Deliverance sustained heavy damage."

"Major Vega, can you still launch?" asked Ashley.

"Roger that," said Vega. "We got clear. Our shuttles are on the way."

"Stick to the plan," said Ashley. "But note that all hostiles are cloaked, and adjust accordingly."

Ashley motioned to her team to move out and they went in. As soon as they reached the doors, Javik began firing his pulse rifle.

"Enemy!" he shouted.

Ashley couldn't see what he was shooting at, but then again, she didn't have four Prothean eyes or advanced senses. She aimed in the general direction he was firing and depressed the trigger of her Typhoon. Her disruptor ammo tagged something within a second. The alien, whatever it was, let out a screech as it tried to get into cover, but it was too late. Once its cloak was down, it was hit by several of her fire team. The alien slumped to the ground near the doors, then began to glow before self-incinerating.

"Great, some sort of fucking bug," said Turay. "Um, no offense to our Prothean squad member."

"I am unconcerned with the prejudices of primitives," said Javik. "But you should be concerned with this enemy."

"What was it?" said Ashley.

"I am not certain, but there are legends among my people of an ancient race that evaded the Reapers for a hundred cycles or more. It was said that they drank blood, so I believed it to be myth, but the alien's cloak and incineration tech match the tales. We called them the Wraiths," said Javik.

"I have also heard such stories, most often in whispers and allusions from the darkest corners of the galaxy. It seems that they are more than just myth," said Samara.

"Well, that's just great," said Ashley. "And nobody but Protheans can see them coming. Ok, Javik, you're on point."

"Understood, Captain," said Javik.

Ashley's squad entered the base just as the roar of shuttles sounded overhead. Vega and his squad were closing in, and behind them came the Asari Commandos that Ashley was expecting. Once inside, they sought cover and waited for their backup. The sixteen Asari entered the base only minutes later. They had an overwhelming advantage now, despite the alien cloaking technology.

"Commander Narya, glad you could make it to the party," said Ashley.

The Asari Commander looked weary. "The Brilliant Wind has a hull breach. We'll have to make repairs."

"Understood," said Ashley. "We'll patch ourselves up later. For now, let's clear out this base."

Ashley divided up her squad again, this time pairing her fire teams with Asari. They had plenty of barriers and firepower. It was time to hunt. They went on the move, but not far into the base, they found a pile of desiccated corpses.

"These guys were Cerberus," said Turay. "What the fuck happened to them?"

One of the Asari ran a scan with her Omni-tool.

"They've been drained of blood, and other bodily fluids," she said.

Javik made a peculiar sound. "Again, it is as the legends say."

"Fucking vampires, that's just great," said Turay.

Several of the Asari looked spooked, so Ashley made light of the situation.

"Well, it looks scary, but it doesn't change the game plan in a gunfight, which is try not to get shot," said Ashley.

Turay laughed. The tension was relieved at once. There was still no sign of the aliens.

"Vega here, and you're not going to fucking believe this," said Vega.

"What do you have?" said Ashley.

"We're in the hangar, no resistance at all. We're standing in front of the badass frigate that ripped us up on Benning. It's a hell of a nice ship, and it looks abandoned," said Vega.

"Well, great," said Ashley. "I love it when Cerberus builds ships for us."

"Took the words right out of my mouth," said Vega.

Hadley's voice crackled on the channel. "Williams, we have movement back here at the med labs."

"Ok, we know where they are now," said Ashley. "Let's move out. Major Vega, hold your position. We may need that ship."

They moved forward, found their way into the access hall, and immediately came under fire. The alien weapons made a hissing noise as they lanced through the room, cutting through kinetic barriers, armor, and unfortunately biotic barriers. One of her team as well as an Asari, were hit and went down. A black vapor surrounded their bodies. An Asari yelled a warning about toxicity levels. They all returned fire. The battle was on, and it was immediately apparent that the aliens had superior kinetic barriers.

"Disruptor ammo!" shouted Ashley. "If you've got it, use it. Lieutenant Pax, now would be a good time for some barriers and turrets."

It was hard to tell how many aliens they were facing, but it was enough. There was trouble on the right flank. Two more Asari and a Turian went down. Ashley couldn't even tell if they were hitting the enemy. They were slowly being forced back until Javik started calling out positions. They counterattacked, regained their positons, and forced the aliens back. One of the enemy self-incinerated not far in front of her. Soon, the weapons fire ceased and the surrounding area grew quiet, except for the moans of her wounded.

"We've got them on the run. We should pursue cautiously," said Javik.

"How many were there?" asked Ashley.

"Six, that I counted," said Javik. "We killed one, there, and two more were wounded."

"Only six?" said Ashley.

"Yes, Captain," said Javik.

Ashley took stock. She had five soldiers down, and at least two dead out of thirty-three. They'd had the aliens outnumbered nearly six to one, and they'd barely hung on.

She jumped on the com. "Major, are you out there? Did you hear that?"

"Yea, and I can also hear weapons discharging in the direction of med bay. I think Hadley's in trouble," he said.

"Take half your team and meet me there," said Ashley. "Proceed with caution, Major, these things are no joke."

"Roger that," said Vega.

"Jack, what's your sitrep," said Ashley.

The com line was silent.

She tried again. "Jack, Samantha, Prangley, come in?"

Static was the only reply. Ashley gritted her teeth against the rising fear, reminding herself to stay on task. Her priority was to secure the base. She'd worry about the casualties after it was all over.

* * *

Ashley's voice broke over the com one more time. Cruz looked itchy, but Prangley shook his head, warning the Corporal not to respond. Not far in, they'd found several Cerberus bodies, and a hastily written message scrawled on the wall.

 _They are tracking us through our coms._

The poor Cerberus bastard who had written it had probably saved their lives, well, that and the fact that Williams and her team were chattering away and drawing every one of hostiles in their direction. So, Jack and her small crew were sitting tight. They were holed up in a cubby near the abandoned cell block. Traynor continued working on the communications array. She'd apparently come up with some brilliant plan based on the com info, but she sure was taking her sweet time about it. Every second they stayed in one place made Jack more and more nervous.

Jack was the only one with an open com channel, and that was because Traynor had adjusted its reception down so low there were no emissions. She could monitor faint signals, but she couldn't broadcast. Traynor also had hers set up for safety, but it did them no good at the moment, because she was up in the crawlspace near the guts of the array.

Kasumi appeared out of thin air, startling Jack, who hissed in anger. The thief held her hands open, signifying that all the cells were empty. Jack's heart sank. It was Prangley's hope that Miranda was hiding in one of the cells, since they were so well fortified. Jack should have known better. If Miri had been a prisoner all of this time, the last place she'd want to be was in here.

It didn't escape Jack's notice that several of the cells had chairs wired for electrocution and carts loaded with torture instruments. Just the sight of it pissed her off. She recognized a blade that was almost identical to the one that Nicholas had used on her, and speaking of Nicholas, there was no sign of her. The best case scenario was that one of the aliens had taken the bitch down, but Jack doubted they'd be that lucky.

Jack was growing more nervous as each second ticked off the clock. She had a sixth sense when it came to danger, and her alarm was buzzing. She poked her head out in the hallway. It looked clear, but looks weren't everything. She wouldn't have seen Kasumi coming down that hall, and these fucking bugs were even sneakier. The instinct was too strong to ignore. She inhaled, slipped her finger over the trigger of her M-6 and prepared herself.

"What are you doing?" whispered Cruz.

Jack ignored him. She nodded at Prangley and the both of them put their barriers up. She stepped into the hall and depressed the trigger, squeezing off three shots and hitting nothing. She was already retreating to cover when fire was returned. The enemy's weapon fire emitted a hissing crackle. One shot barely grazed her barrier and still nearly took it down.

"Oh fuck," she said. "We've got company!"

Cruz jumped out to cover her, laying down suppressing fire with his Avenger rifle. Several of his rounds hit a target, but the alien's kinetic barriers merely shrugged off the effects. Cruz's shields didn't fare as well. Down he went, a black mist enveloping his armor as he began to scream. Kasumi, still cloaked, rolled a flashbang grenade down the hall in hopes of halting their advance.

"Prangley, singularity, now!" barked Jack.

The Lt. Commander was on it before she'd even finished the order. She followed up immediately, stepping just to his front right and unleashing her new trick. Her hands lit up, and her skin burned as she unleashed a field of blue energy that rolled down the hall.

Prangley's singularity had begun to dissipate before it fully formed, which indicated the aliens were using some crazy ass shielding that disrupted biotics, so it was fortunate that she'd been quick about it.

Her shockwave hit the aliens and the singularity at the same time. A triggered explosion of biotics staggered the enemy. Both creatures became visible, which was a damn good thing. Jack and Prangley were on point with their pistols, as was Duckworth with his assault rifle, and Kasumi with her Locust. Several rounds hit home, forcing the aliens to retreat from the corridor. They were through the doorway before Jack's squad could bring them down.

"How the hell are those things still standing?" asked Prangley.

"They're tough as shit, that's how," said Jack.

Duckworth, a veteran of the Reaper War, agreed. "They're like Cerberus Phantoms, except that once you strip their barriers, they're as strong as Reaper Brutes."

Prangley cocked an eyebrow at Jack. "By the way," he added. "What was that thing you just did?"

Jack grinned. "I combined Biotic Warp effects with my Shockwave, because I can do that with these new L7 implants. I call it a Warpwave. I still haven't perfected it, but it did the job."

Prangley looked jealous.

Kasumi knelt down near Cruz and checked the soldier's vitals. "He's alive, but he's in bad shape."

Movement near the cubby put Jack on alert, but fortunately it was Traynor who'd just appeared from the crawlway.

"About fucking time," said Jack. "What were you doing?"

Traynor glanced at Omni-tool, which was still activate, and tapped her wrist. As explanations went, it was total shit, but Jack wasn't in the mood to push it.

Kasumi helped Prangley drag Cruz into the cubby, and the rest of the team likewise retreated, just in case the aliens came back with reinforcements. In the distance, Jack could hear massive firepower being brought to bear. It sounded as if the main force was squaring off against several of the aliens.

"This isn't good," said Kasumi.

Traynor shook her head. "I'm picking up stray com chatter. Both of the other squads are taking heavy losses, but I think I can help if my plan works," said Traynor.

"Well, what's your plan?" asked Jack.

"I wired the main broadcast dish into the base's intercom system. If I push this button, it will disrupt all communications as long as I hold it, which will interfere with all our coms, and could do nothing to the aliens, or it may cause the aliens problems, or it may bring them all here to investigate," said Traynor.

Jack grimaced. "Oh, for fuck's sake, tech shit, really?"

Prangley shrugged. "It's worth a try."

"I'm game," said Kasumi.

Jack tightened her grip on her pistol. "Well, shit, let's do something. Ok, Traynor, press the damn thing."

Traynor did just that. Nothing happened.

"Uh," said Jack.

"Turn on your com," said Traynor.

Jack did it, and noticed that it was pumping out distorted feedback, no matter what frequency she tried. She turned it off again, just to be sure.

"Well, what good is that going to do?" asked Duckworth.

"It's actually kind of brilliant," said Kasumi. "If the aliens really are using our coms to track us, they'll get signals scattered all over the base at this point."

"Twenty seconds and counting," said Traynor. "I can pause it, just to see if it's working."

"Another twenty, and then break off," said Jack.

Traynor let the signal continue, then released it. Jack poked her head out into the hall and motioned to Prangley, who let loose another singularity. It appeared down the hall, close to where they'd caught the aliens last time, and hung there undisturbed.

"No sign of them," he said.

Traynor's mouth spread into a smile. "It worked! It's helping the Captain and the Major."

"Well, do it again," said Jack. "This time let it roll for a couple of minutes."

Samantha turned the signal back on, and Jack breathed a sigh of relief. Finally something was going right for a change.

* * *

( _To Be Continued…_ )


	43. Assault on Amaranthine (Part Two)

_Again, sorry for the delay. I've been dealing with several health issues, but it's time to bear down. It's been a year since I started this thing. About time I finished._

* * *

June 30th, 2188

 **Ashley Williams  
**

 **Jack**

* * *

Ashley didn't know who or what was causing the coms to jam, but it was the break they needed. The aliens were thrown into confusion, and Ashley took full advantage of the situation. Peering through the scope of her sniper rifle, she targeted another alien and put it down. It crumpled to the floor in front of the med lab before self-incinerating. She signaled to her team and advanced, just as Vega and his men appeared from a corridor on her right flank.

There was no time for words. They linked up seamlessly, and moved into the labs. The last remnant of Cerberus had created a barricade in the corner. They were guarding a metallic cylinder. There were only five soldiers left standing, and three aliens were moving on their position. Ashley shouted a command and opened fire on the enemy. Two crumpled to the floor as they were each hit by dozens of rounds, and the third, which had made a move to get through the Cerberus defenders, was taken out by Vega's shotgun blast. The Cerberus soldiers stepped away as the aliens began to burn.

For a brief moment, Ashley considered shooting Hadley and his crew, but it wasn't the right call in her current situation. If any aliens remained, she'd need every hand that could hold a gun and aim it. She motioned to her soldiers to stand down. Cerberus did likewise.

"Good timing, Captain," said Hadley.

Ashley was unable to hide the disgust she felt. She glared at the Cerberus soldiers. Hadley looked away from her stare.

"Yea, I know, you don't have to say it," he said.

Vega moved forward, and looked down into a glass window at the top of the cylinder, and then reacting as if someone struck him across the face. He staggered backwards, reeling.

"FUCK!" he screamed.

He leveled his weapon at Hadley. "What did you do to her?"

"James, stand down," said Ashley.

"Fuck that," said Vega. "That's the Commander in there, Ash, it's Shepard, and they've…"

Vega broke down, his speech disintegrating into a barrage of Spanish slurs that Ashley didn't understand. He kept his shotgun pointed at Hadley and looked dangerously close to pulling the trigger.

Samara approached the cylinder. Unlike Vega, she didn't glance away after she peered into it. Instead, she set her hand on the glass as if she were trying to touch Shepard.

"My friend," she whispered.

"I know your face, pendejo, you were one of her crew. She hauled your ass out of the Collector Base, and you let this happen to her? I ought to grease you right now," said Vega.

Hadley hung his head in shame.

"We'll let the Council decide what to do with them after we bring them back, but until we're sure all of these aliens are gone, we'll need them," said Ashley.

"Ma'am, the com channel is clear now," said Turay.

Ashley nodded and opened a channel. "Cortez, what's happening out there?"

Cortez replied through heavy static. "The enemy is destroyed, but we lost the Deliverance. She's adrift in orbit, and we're picking up survivors. The Brilliant Wind is on the ground near the base, and the Salamis is in bad shape Captain. I don't think we can make a jump to FTL without repairs."

Ashley sighed. "Stay alert in case there's another enemy ship."

"If there is, we're dead," said Cortez. "The alien vessel wasn't much bigger than a shuttle, and it just chewed up three of the most advanced frigates in the galaxy."

Vega chimed in. "Hey Esteban, don't get jumpy on me."

"You talk tough, Mr. Vega, but I heard what was going on down there," said Cortez.

"Yea," said Vega. "Little buggers are nasty."

The conversation was interrupted by Traynor. "Bloody hell, you idiots, I disrupted the coms for a reason. The aliens are using them to track you. Now, stay off of them."

What followed was another frequency burst. Ashley signaled for everyone to shut down their communications.

"Damn, so it was Traynor who saved all of our asses," said Vega.

Ashley nodded. "Seems that way. We better stay on guard. How many of these… uh, Javik, what did you call them?"

"The Wraiths," he said.

"Right, so, Reapers, Wraiths… any other horrors skulking around the galaxy that you haven't told us about?" she asked.

The Prothean blinked all four eyes at her and remained silent.

She turned back to James. "Major, how many of these things did we put down?"

"Last count, we've got eleven piles of ash, plus the one outside," said Vega.

Ashley nodded. "Considering the size of their ship, that has to be most if not all of them. Still, like Traynor said, we should stay off the coms."

Hadley shook his head. "We had over a hundred soldiers at this facility, and you're telling me we were taken down by a dozen of these things?"

Ashley ignored Hadley and continued to address Vega. "How many men did you leave in the hangar?"

"I left half my squad back there, and it was still quiet last I checked in," said Vega.

"Good," said Ashley. "Sounds like we're going to need that Cerberus ship. Reorganize our squads into balanced teams. We need to sweep and secure the base, and round up any Cerberus stragglers. If any try to run for it or resist, put them down with extreme prejudice. Also, it'd be great if we could find Lawson."

"On it," said Vega.

"And James," said Ashley. "Keep an eye out for Nicholas, in case she's still alive."

Hadley spoke up again. "Petrovsky threw her in a cell a few weeks back, so let's hope the aliens found her and sucked her dry."

Ashley turned to him. "Not a fan I take it. Well, at least you have half a brain."

Hadley mumbled on about something, but Ashley ignored him. The cylinder caught her attention again. She took a deep breath and approached it, then stared down into the glass. It was worse than she could have imagined. It was Shepard, the real Shepard. Ashley could tell from the mouth and jaw alone, but as for the rest… she could barely stand to look at her old friend.

The Commander's head was shaven, and there were stitches all over her scalp indicating that someone had recently cut into her head. In addition, there were bloody bandages over her eyes and ears, and her face was red and purple with bruising.

Ashley didn't understand. "Why is her faced bruised? Why is there blood? She's been dead for a year or more."

Hadley stammered. "Uh, she wasn't dead, not until recently. Nicholas…"

Ashley shut him down. She didn't want to hear another word. It felt as if someone had dunked her throbbing head in hot water. She heard blood surging past her eardrums, then felt faint. She didn't know if she was going to scream, or start killing the prisoners. Several of the Cerberus captives took a step away from her, which was a good thing—probably saved their lives. She knelt down beside the cylinder and pressed her forehead to the window. Her eyes watered, dripping tears onto the glass.

"I'm so sorry, Shepard. I'll get your body home to Liara. I won't let anyone else touch you, ever again," she promised.

* * *

Traynor, Duckworth, and Prangley were taking Cruz back to the Brilliant Wind. The Asari frigate had come to rest just a hundred meters from the Cerberus base. The ship was damaged, but the crew was intact, and she had the best medical facilities of the three ships. Captain Massyna was an experienced officer closing in on the Matriarch stage. Jack was confident they'd be as safe there as anywhere else on this godforsaken planet. It was time to find Miri, and get the hell out of here.

She made her way to the elevator. Kasumi was cloaked and trailing behind her. It was a risk wandering the base. There could be more aliens, but then again, Ashley and all her com traffic would probably pull them in her direction. Meanwhile, Jack and Kasumi had fried their coms just for good measure. They were finally through the prison section and found the elevator to the base's main ops center.

The elevator doors were sealed, not that it mattered to Kasumi. She found a way through them by using her Omni-tool to supply a flash of brief backup power and then using an incredibly fast hack. As soon as the doors were unsealed, they were easy enough to pry open. Jack stared into the elevator and saw a dead Cerberus soldier. His skull had been crushed and his head nearly severed from his body. Whatever had done it was strong as hell. This wasn't the work of one of the aliens.

"Nicholas," she hissed.

Kasumi whispered. "You sure you want to go up there?"

Jack stepped into the elevator, careful not to slip in the blood, and looked up at the access hatch.

"Yea," she said. "I've got to find her, but there's no way I'm climbing up cables to the top of the shaft."

Kasumi laughed. "Spent a lot of time in that hospital bed watching old vids? There are no cables in elevators anymore, the lift is supplied by Mass Effect technology."

Jack snorted and watched Kasumi go to work on the internal panels. A few minutes later, the elevator was operational and they were on their way. When they reached the top, Jack leveled her gun at the doors as they opened with a soft hiss. The corridor beyond was dark. Apparently, the emergency power had been cut.

"Spooky," whispered Kasumi, who'd re-cloaked.

Jack gritted her teeth and stepped into the darkness. ' _Well, shit,_ ' she thought.

She'd never been particularly frightened of anything, but stalking through the dark corridor in a base that was under alien attack, while knowing Nicholas was probably around the next corner, well, it unnerved her to say the least. She swallowed hard, trying to keep the fear down. Over and over, she reminded herself that Kasumi was watching her back as she crept forward.

Eventually, they made their way to some sort of ops room. Two dead Cerberus guards lay in a pool of blood near the wall. By the looks of it, they'd been crushed by a biotic field. Jack's finger was on the trigger now. She could hear her own breathing, feel her own heartbeat. It was no good standing around in this place. She scanned the room, noticed an opening, and moved into it, and realized it was Petrovsky's private chambers.

The room was a mess. There was blood all over the floor, a chess board on a small table, also splashed with blood, and several sealed glass habitats that had been cracked and shattered by gunfire. Another Cerberus guard was slumped on the floor, but there was no sign of Petrovsky. On the opposite side of the room was a sealed metal door with a security grid, perhaps some sort of control or panic room. Jack muttered under her breath when she heard the sound of the elevator in the distance.

"Someone has recalled the elevator," whispered Kasumi. "Hopefully it's our guys."

"You know it's not," hissed Jack. "Get ready for trouble, and if you can, find a hiding spot."

Without warning, the light in the room flickered on. Jack just about wet her pants. She glanced around at the blood spattered floor, and noticed a pool that was forming near the closet. She took a deep breath and approached.

' _Please don't let it be Miri, please don't let it be Miri,_ ' she repeated in her head.

She opened the closet. Petrovsky's headless body tumbled out. Confusion descended, followed by shock and alarm. Nicholas had to be here somewhere. Jack glanced around the room. Her Omni-tool blinked, warning of surveillance cameras. Shit, she was being watched. Ducking for cover behind a counter, she readied herself for combat, but nothing happened. An eerie silence prevailed.

Then she heard the elevator doors open. There were heavy footsteps in the corridor. Jack crouched, readied her weapon, and waited. The footsteps stopped. There was silence, and then the unmistakable sound of Kasumi's cloak crackling as she unsheathed her Omni-blade and went in for a kill. There was a crunching noise, a yelp, and a crash, and then laughter. Jack knew that laugh. It was Nicholas.

"Nice try, you sneaky little bitch, but no dice," said the Cerberus psychopath.

Jack went red blind with rage and rushed the door as Nicholas turned the corner. Two rounds from her pistol hit home, and though she had special ammo and was prepared for this scenario, so was Nicholas. The woman was dressed in heavy battle armor. Her biotic fields broke, but Jack's rounds embedded themselves harmlessly into the protective mesh of the armor. Before she could react, Nicholas hit her with an unusual throw field. Jack's own biotic barrier went down, as she was tossed two meters backwards. She landed awkwardly in a pile of clutter.

Her reflexes were slow, much too slow. Williams was right, Jack was in no condition for a fight, but what else could she do? Nicholas was on her before she could recover. The Cerberus Operative clamped her hand around Jack's throat and lifted her off the ground. Jack fought to free herself, to no avail.

" _Not like this,_ " she thought.

After all she had gone through, to die like this would be a travesty, a fucking joke. Nicholas drew close. Her breath stank like rancid… something. Her eyes were bloodshot, and there was a strange growth on her face, like a fungus or some shit. Jack would have commented on the ugly bitch, except for the fact that her throat was rather restricted at the moment.

Nicholas licked her lips. "I don't know how you're still alive, but you never learn, do you? After what I did to you, I'm surprised you had the guts to come back for more? You what, wanted to find your precious girlfriend? You wasted your time, Subject Zero. I'm afraid I didn't leave much for you to play with."

Jack tried to use her biotics, but Nicholas was ahead of her. She slammed Jack onto the nearby table, knocking the wind out of her, and probably damaging still mending internal organs. It fucking hurt. There wasn't much use in trying to fight back, so Jack did her best to produce a hateful scowl. At least she wouldn't die looking pathetic.

Nicholas laughed. "You're a little pissed, good, but before you die, I want you to know that all your friends will die with you. The aliens you defeated were a mere scouting party. A ship, a much larger one, will be here soon, along with a full complement of warriors. They'll destroy your pathetic Council forces without batting an eye."

Jack couldn't tell if the woman was bluffing. She wondered how a Cerberus Operative could know this information. Was she in contact with the aliens?

"You see, they set me free," continued Nicholas, as if she understood what Jack was thinking. "I've got their DNA. They can use me and all the others like me that Cerberus created. Lawson didn't destroy all of us in the Reaper War, there was another facility hidden on Noveria, and once I get the codes from my father, I'll release them and guide them to a higher purpose."

Jack was starting to black out. It was then the Nicholas spotted the body in the closet.

"Father?" she called out.

Letting go of Jack, she scrambled to Petrovky's body. Jack gasped for air, and rolled herself off the table. She scanned the immediate area for her weapon. Nicholas began ranting and screaming. It sounded as if she were in genuine pain. So she had some semblance of humanity after all, and Petrovsky was her father. Then Jack wondered, if it wasn't Nicholas who killed him in such a vicious manner, who then?

Just then the security door on the opposite of the room blinked. Nicholas walked over to the door and put herself in front of the security screen. No doubt she had the proper codes. As she waited for a response, the door slid open. What happened next seemed like a dream. Jack saw the end of a shotgun barrel followed by a muzzle flash, and a boom. Jack knew her guns well enough to recognize the report of a Claymore. Nicholas staggered backwards, and before she could react, the shotgun fired again, striking Nicholas once more at point blank range.

The Cerberus Operative's armor and shields were shredded. A third round knocked her to the floor before she could mount a defense. Jack saw the shotgun swing down again. It was clutched by a robotic arm. A mech perhaps? But as the shooter emerged from the control room, it was now clear there was no mech guiding the arm, but an actual person, and not just any person…

Jack gasped. "Miri!"

Miranda was too focused on Nicholas to respond. She put another round in her adversary, and then grasped Nicholas with her biotics. She began slamming the woman from the ceiling to the floor repeatedly. The look on Miranda Lawson's face took Jack aback. It was pure hatred and rage. She'd never seen that look on Miranda before. It was frightening.

Jack was certain that Nicholas had to be dead by this point, but Miranda didn't stop. She climbed onto Petrovsky's progeny and began pummeling her with the robot arm. Jack realized that the arm was no mere device, but a part of Lawson now. Her stomach turned as she imagined what sort of torture Miri had gone through all these months.

Miranda Lawson let out a ferocious, primal cry and she slammed her metal hand repeatedly into Nicholas's skull, which had been fractured into shards at this point. Blood and brains spattered the room, but Miranda continued her assault. She also continued screaming, quite loudly. Jack's instincts were not to interfere.

She knew that rage. She'd felt that rage. Miri needed to own it, let it out. That shit was like poison that had to come out one way or the other. This was as good a place to get it started as any. As the seconds turned into minutes, and the goo that used to be Operative Nicholas wasn't worth beating on anymore, Miranda Lawson finally relented. She stared at the mess she made, curled her lips into a maliciously satisfied smile, and then finally turned her eyes on Jack.

"You're alive…" she croaked.

"More or less," said Jack.

Miranda Lawson smiled. Jack felt her heart clench.

They crawled to each other, amidst the blood and debris, and sat apart, just out of touch. It was a frightening thing, after all they had come through, to be this close again. Jack felt it as strong as ever, but did Miri? She wasn't sure what to begin with, and after all this, well, shit it would be understandable if…

Miranda moved in quickly, and kissed Jack, hard. Jack was certain she could taste Nicholas's blood on Miri's lips, but it didn't gross her out, in fact, she found it a bit of a turn on.

' _You're still a sick fuck, aren't you?'_ she thought to herself.

The kiss continued for some time, until it was broken by a moan in the distance. Kasumi, no doubt. At least she was still alive. Jack released the kiss reluctantly.

Jack motioned to the door. "We should…"

"Get out of here," finished Miranda, smiling.

Miranda climbed to her feet. Jack struggled to find her own. She was in no shape to…

Miranda lifted Jack into her arms.

"I've got you," she said. Again, she was smiling.

Jack stared up at Miri, wondering if this was all a vivid hallucination, perhaps the last ragged thoughts firing through her brain cells as Nicholas choked the life out of her back in reality. It was a grim thought, and if so, then this would all fade to black soon.

Any second now…

The dream lingered.

"We need to get going," said Miranda. "Nicholas was right, the Wraiths will be here soon, and we need to get to Shepard's body."

Jack nodded. So this was reality then, strange. Was she really going to get a happy ending? Of course, there was always the possibility that the aliens arrived in three heartbeats and blew them all to hell.

"Williams and Vega have it secured," she paused. "For now."

Miranda looked relieved. She carried Jack down the hall, and soon came upon Kasumi. The thief was hunched against the wall, bleeding from a fractured skull. She needed medical attention at once. Jack felt it was time to risk the com. Also, Williams had to be warned…

* * *

Ashley was anxious. The docking bay releases were still damaged, though her engineers were in top form and working to resolve the situation. As a precaution, she'd ordered the Brilliant Wind evacuated despite the protestations of its crew and captain, and loaded all available personnel into the Cerberus frigate. Cortez had insisted on staying in orbit to keep watch, but the Salamis was in no shape for battle. It was barely FTL functional, and Ashley wondered if they would even make it home.

She gave the order to bug out and Cortez obeyed, albeit reluctantly. Jack and Miranda were stashed away onboard, both in stable condition. Specialist Traynor was tied into the base's scanners for all the good it would do. Ashley realized there was little chance of detecting the approach of the Wraiths. Their stealth systems were well beyond even the best Cerberus, Alliance, and Council tech. It was all a waiting game now. All Ashley could do was wait on her engineers and pray that Nicholas had been bluffing.

Just after the clock ticked past fourteen hundred, one of her engineers signaled that the clamps had been released. She breathed a sigh of relief that lasted all of thirty seconds before hell broke loose with a mountain of shit following close behind. A signal relayed from her crew indicated that the Brilliant Wind had been attacked and destroyed.

The Asari Captain, under Ashley's direction, had ordered a skeleton crew of Asari Commandoes to maintain the appearance that their vessel was under repair, just in case Nicholas was accurate. The plan was that they'd board their shuttle and link up in orbit just after the commandeered Cerberus ship left the base. That wasn't going to happen. The signal indicated that the Brilliant Wind was scrap, and that all Asari hands were lost.

' _Shit, it happened so fast,_ ' thought Ashley.

Realizing that the aliens must have been watching from orbit, Ashley initiated the plan she and Traynor had put together. A motion brought up her Omni-tool, which she used to activate all the coms her teams had placed in different locations in the Cerberus base. A second code armed the nuke hidden in the cell area. Since the Wraiths seemed to gravitate to com signals, it was the best bet to lure them away from their location. The alien bastards would assume that the bulk of the Council soldiers were guarding the decoy container that Ashley had placed in the lab facility.

Vega nodded at Ashley, smiling, then gave her the thumbs up. Ashley nodded back, though she was less optimistic. Vega loved the plan, even dropped the word brilliant. He'd ordered his soldiers to paint the name Kirrahe on the nuke. Ashley was cautiously optimistic. She'd had enough lumps to know that combat plans rarely worked exactly as designed, and when they did work it was only through blood sacrifice. That was shit part of being in command.

Alenko had once told her that she was never going to make it as an officer until she learned how to get out of the way and let others do some of the lifting. He maintained that the secret of command was being able to live with the fact that you ordered other people to die, and spent your own blood only as the last resort. Then, in a moment of hypocrisy, said officer got himself killed after making sure that a subordinate, one Ashley Williams, made it out alive.

That made Kaidan a less than ideal officer by his own acknowledgement. It also endeared him to Ashley for all time. If there really was a heaven, and Ashley still wanted to believe there was, then the first thing she'd do when she got there was buy Alenko a beer. He'd spent his own blood for her life. At the time she didn't fully appreciate all the nuances of that decision, but once she'd set aside the guilt, she'd finally started to appreciate the gift he'd given her.

The past few years, the years Alenko had purchased on her behalf, had been the best and the worst of her life. She'd always been one for poetry over prose, but she gave Dickens a little credit at least. His words grew ever more brilliant with each breath that she drew.

Ashley's moment of reflection was followed by a spark of clarity. Her father had always said that life had foreshadowing, those instances where it is clear where the story was going. She was in such a moment. Ashley felt it in her bones. Fear washed over her, even as she watched the last of her engineers legging it up the ramp into the docking bay of the frigate. She pulled in oxygen through her nose, scanned the hangar, and gave the hand signal for departure.

James Vega was on her left flank, to her right was Sergeant Turay and then Javik, whose Prothean head swung to the left. His four eyes focused on an area behind Vega's shoulder. The ship's engines were coming online. A signal from the docking bay indicated to clear the ramp, but Ashley acted on instinct. She calmly moved forward down the ramp, then to her immediate left, shielding Vega, and fired her weapon into the fuel container ten meters away. She'd estimated correctly that her kinetic barrier and armor would be enough to protect her from the blast.

She'd also rightly guessed that the alien stealth technology, no matter how advanced, couldn't maintain itself when stuck by any kind of shockwave. Indeed, the resulting explosion revealed several aliens advancing on their position. Two of the aliens, now staggering forward and briefly visible, had already reached the ramp. Ashley opened fire on them. Vega, Turay, and Javik followed suite.

As she continued to discharge her weapon, a million scenarios ran through her head. If she hadn't acted on her intuition, at least a dozen aliens would've boarded the ship before the ramp had fully retracted. Her crew wouldn't have had time to react. She knelt near the edge of the ramp, hanging precariously over the edge as it lifted, firing precisely, and using every combat instinct at her disposal to defend her position. No alien could board the ship, not one. Her three companions were near. Ashley could hear the report of their weapons.

She was aware of heat on her shoulders, in her arms, her abdomen, but soon forgot about it as she felt the ramp lift beneath her. She heard Vega screaming something incomprehensible as he used his shotgun to take down an alien at near point blank range. Ashley continued firing until the ramp clicked into sealing position, pitching her backwards. She slid into the cargo bay on her back.

An eerie silence descended as she felt the inertia dampeners activate on the ship, which meant they were ascending. A call of "clear" rang out, which meant they were out of the base. Now it was up to the Asari pilot to get them into orbit and subsequently, FTL. Ashley prayed that the Cerberus stealth systems were up to Normandy standards, and that the alien sensors weren't any more efficient than Reaper technology.

"Williams, Williams!" Ashley tried to roll over and see who was yelling at her, but she couldn't quite pull it off. She must have caught her leg on some part of the ramp. Also, the burning sensation in her abdomen was growing strong. Perhaps she'd underestimated her armor in relation to the fuel tank she'd popped with her rifle. She tried to get a clear look at her armor, but she couldn't manage to crane her head down from her current position on the ramp.

Vega was hovering over her. His face was contorted, twisted into a mask of fear and dismay. What was his issue? The docking bay was clear. If they'd been boarded, he'd be fighting right now, not panicking. Why was Vega acting this way? The man was a hardened soldier, a rock. Fear wasn't his game.

"Hold on Ashley, just hold on, medical is on the way," he said, brandishing his Omni-tool.

He was pawing at her armor. Ashley could hear the medi-gel being released. More of her crew were gathering around. Sergeant Turay was looking on. He was more than a little pissed off, but that was normal for Turay.

"Dammit," was all he said.

Vega's voice was getting a little fainter now. There was blood all over his hands, his Omni-tool was also covered in blood, and black charred bits of flesh—her flesh, her blood. Ashley felt detachment, peace.

A Prothean hand touched the side of her head. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. She felt a flood of experiences and memories flowing out of her. In return, she was awash in alien sensations that were difficult to translate. There were also familiar feelings in the sensory information that had been relayed: pride, accomplishment, and a strong aura of comradeship.

"Captain, it was an honor," said Javik. "You were a true warrior to the end."

"Fuck, fuck, fucking hell! No, no, no, no," repeated James, who then trailed off into unfamiliar words before returning to speech she understood. "Dammit, Ash, why did you do that? I could have taken the hit."

Ashley remembered, yes, she stepped in front of Vega, to get a shot at the fuel tank, but also to shield him in case they drew enemy fire. She must have been hit by the aliens, the Wraiths, several times in fact. She remembered now. That's what was going on. She'd held her position—didn't budge from it. None of the bastards had gotten on the ship, her ship. She'd ask Hackett for this ship when they got back. She had a good feeling, even though it was Cerberus, the assholes did at least do good work when it came to tech.

Vega was growing fainter, he'd almost become a distant dream when a familiar voice came to her.

" _Ash,_ " it said.

Excitement took hold of her. "Shepard, is that you, are you still alive?"

" _Hard to answer. I suppose it's_ _a matter of perspective,"_ answered the Commander.

"That's such a Shepard answer, God, I've missed you," said Ashley.

" _I've missed you too, Ash,_ " said Shepard.

Shepard lifted Ashley to her feet. It was bright out. The air was cool. The two women smiled at each other, then embraced.

" _Come with me,_ " said Shepard.

"Aye, aye, Ma'am," answered Ashley.

She took Shepard's hand. They walked side by side into a dream, a good dream. All was right with the world.

* * *

 _ **Ashley Williams: April 14**_ _ **th**_ _ **, 2158 – June 30**_ _ **th**_ _ **, 2188**_

 **Up Next:** Tuchanka's Tears


	44. Tuchanka's Tears

_The final chapter, at last. (though there will be a short epilogue posted in the next few days) - PS, one of my German beta readers was confused by a statement in the story, so ***head** = bathroom on a naval ship._

* * *

 _"I have heard ballads of great battles, and poems about the beauty of a charge and the grace of a leader. But I did not know that war was nothing more than butchery, as savage and unskilled as sticking a pig in the throat and leaving it to bleed to make the meat tender. I did not know that the style and nobility of the jousting arena had nothing to do with this thrust and stab. Just like killing a screaming piglet for bacon after chasing it round the sty. And I did not know that war thrilled men so: they come home laughing like schoolboys after a prank; but they have blood on their hands and a smear of something on their cloaks and the smell of smoke in their hair and a terrible ugly excitement on their faces._

 _I understand now why they break into convents, force women against their will, defy sanctuary to finish the killing chase. They arouse in themselves a wild vicious hunger more like animals than men. I did not know war was like this. I feel I have been a fool not to know, since I was raised in a kingdom at war and am the daughter of a man captured in battle, the widow of a night, the wife of a merciless solider. But I know now."_

Philippa Gregory

July 14th, 2188

 **Susan Rizzi**

* * *

Susan spat blood and broken teeth onto a primitive cell floor already covered in feces, urine, and rotting flesh. She'd been stripped to her undergarments and systematically abused by her captures, but they hadn't killed her or inflicted mortal wounds—at least not yet. After her capture, she was faced with the fear that the Krogan that had taken her were too stupid to care what she was doing in the area, but then a call came down. Apparently a Warlord, or someone equally as important in the chain of command realized she might be of use to them—lucky for her, lucky for everyone.

It was difficult to make out her surroundings. The light was dim, and what she could see was doubled or blurred by the effects of a severe concussion. It was possible that her skull was fractured. A funny taste in the back of her throat was especially troubling. She suspected it was cerebrospinal fluid, and if that was the case, she didn't have long. Medical treatment was unlikely.

Shaking and sweating, trying to keep herself from vomiting, she crawled to the farthest corner of her cell in the hopes that she could stay out of sight and not attract the attention of one of the Krogan guards. She had her biotics, though they were of little use in her current condition. There was no temptation to attempt an escape. Susan wasn't even sure of where she was. It had all been a blur since her patrol had been jumped.

A voice, wretched and deep, resonating like a sickly bullfrog, croaked out of the darkness beyond her right shoulder.

"Human," it said. "What are you doing here?"

She took a rattling breath through broken ribs before she answered. "What does it look like?"

The Krogan grunted. "I haven't seen an alien on Tuchanka in months."

It was painful to talk, but Susan felt obliged to follow the thread of the conversation.

"Where did they all go?" she asked. "The Relay is still closed."

The Krogan made a sickening sound with his mouth. "Food supplies being what they are, they were butchered and eaten."

Susan made no pretense of being shocked. She'd gotten a firsthand look of Tuchanka these past few days. What had been a desolate world prior to the Reaper War had turned into a burned out graveyard over the course of the last year. The Krogan had rushed headlong into having children as soon as the Genophage was cured. Unfortunately, after the destruction of the Reapers and the damage to the relays meant there was no way to bring the millions of newborn Krogan food and much needed medical supplies. Society had fallen apart in short order.

The isolation of their race, the barrenness of Tuchanka, and their warlike nature, had all joined forces against them, bringing about a level of savagery and unprecedented suffering that was shocking even by Krogan standards. Shortly thereafter, the Krogan Clans had turned against each other. The rules that Wrex had put into place were abandoned when Urdnot Torsk became the leader of Clan Urdnot. Females and children had been slaughtered indiscriminately when the fighting broke out. If the relay wasn't opened soon, the Krogan race would go extinct.

Susan found herself in a strange juxtaposition. In her estimation, the Krogan race didn't deserve to be saved. Allowing them to get back on their feet was a mistake. They had proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt, to be incapable of civilized behavior. However, General Vakarian was her immediate superior. He'd given an order, and Susan would obey it despite her personal misgivings. She was willing to give up what life she had left to fulfill her mission. It was about being a good soldier. It was about loyalty.

The Krogan in the cage next to her spoke up again. "How did you get here, human?"

"Long story," she answered. "I came here to help."

He grunted again. "Foolish way to die."

"Right," she said. "But orders are orders. Who are you, and how did you get on the wrong side of this cage?"

"I'm Urdnot Mok," said the Krogan.

Susan grinned through swollen lips. "Doesn't ring a bell."

Mok snorted. "Nor should it. I am no one."

"Ah," said Susan. "How does no one end up in a cage when other Krogan are being slaughtered?"

"Long story," he answered sardonically.

"Touchè," said Susan, wondering if the translator would handle such an unusual term and translate it to Krogan.

It was then she realized her translator bud had been removed. She stared at the Krogan in shock.

"You can speak English?"

The Krogan showed his sharp teeth. "English, Mandarin, German, Japanese, Arabic, Russian, most of the romance languages of course, and a smattering of minor dialects. I am fluent in thirty-two dialects of the Asari tongue as well, and several branches of Turian and Salarian, and a host of other tongues. I also understand the rudimentary basics of Geth communication."

Susan was suitably impressed. "I didn't know Krogan had linguists."

"There are few of us," he admitted. "Thus I am too valuable to kill."

"Ah, I see," said Susan.

She was wondering why the Krogan would bother keeping a prisoner after interrogation. Now it made sense.

Mok laughed. "They believe I could be useful when they begin their campaign of revenge and conquest. It is all a delusion of course. We've doomed ourselves, but I see no reason to hasten my death by stating the obvious."

Susan shook her head. "Your mastery of English is astonishing. Have you been to Earth?"

The Krogan chuckled dryly. "I've never left Tuchanka."

Susan positioned herself near the bars to his cell, lowering her voice so she wouldn't draw the attention of the guards. "Did you use alien tutors?"

Mok shook his head and tapped his own skull. "I have an ear for tongues, and I watch cinema. Asari and Human, primarily, of course."

Susan cocked her head. "Really?"

The Krogan grinned again. "Yes, I've always dreamed of making films of my own. I've studied the art in depth, all the masters, D'Strata, Ibeth, T'Lonna, Leone, Coppola, Arinthe, Kubrick, Bannoche, Uma Dirth, Malick, and, ah, I could go on…"

Susan laughed. Mok cocked his head, his expression souring, as if he had taken offense.

"Don't mind me," said Susan. "I'm chiding myself. I was wondering if your species had any motivation at all, other than killing and war, and now I'm sharing a cell block with a Krogan linguist, an aspiring artist no less. You're the first ray of sunshine I've seen in this bleak hellhole."

Mok shook his head. "Typical human, full of judgement and hypocrisy."

Susan was incredulous. "I didn't mean to offend."

Mok snorted in contempt. "Say what you will about my species, but don't put yourselves above us. When my people question you, human, they may cause you physical pain in order to extract the information, but no Krogan would violate a female, not even an alien. It would be a gross dishonor. In the entire history of my world you would be hard pressed to find a serial offender or sexual sadist, let alone a defiler of children. No, that is entirely the province of Asari, Humans, and Batarians. Krogan kill, but we are not perverse. We don't rape."

Susan gently brushed her aching head. She hadn't thought about it before. Was that true?

Mok moved closer, staring at Susan intently. "Yet no one, aside from Batarians, consider your race a predominant threat to the galaxy, and the Asari, oh the Asari, they cover up their indiscretions all the time, shut them away so they can keep up the veneer of civilization, but behind every criminal or unjust act in this galaxy you are sure to find an Asari. Too many races discount them because they see beautiful females, but they are more than that. They are female only in the primordial sense. In truth, they are an entire race of plundering males wearing female skin. The galaxy spins in the direction that the Asari dictate, and they allow us lesser races, for we are all lesser in their eyes, only the freedom they wish us to have, and all of us foolishly march to their tune."

Susan considered Mok's words. "Strange, usually when I hear a Krogan discuss politics it amounts to crushing Turians and Salarians."

"My people are shortsighted," said Mok. "The Salarians made the Genophage, and the Turians pulled the trigger, but behind it all I know there was an Asari planting the seed, watering the roots, and giving it all the manure and sunlight it needed to grow and bear fruit. I'd bet my life on it."

Susan didn't have long to consider what Mok had to say. The sound of grinding metal reverberated through the cell block as one of the bay doors slid open. Several armed Krogan entered. The leader, a warlord by the look of him, bore down on her cell.

"Human!" he snapped.

Susan turned, glaring at him defiantly.

The soldiers behind him were sliding a metal chair into the center of the room. The chair had several torture instruments attached to it. In addition two metal trays were hoisted onto a nearby table. A short, gnarled Krogan played at one of the trays. He had a wicked gleam in his eye that betrayed his practice. Susan set her jaw and began to mentally prepare herself.

Before the cell opened, she sent a parting shot in Mok's direction. "What were you saying about sadists?"

Susan didn't put up much of a fight when two Krogan took hold of her. There wasn't really an advantage to resistance. By the time they stripped her underclothes off and strapped her to the chair, she was far away, in a place she hadn't been since her last surgery, when was it, five, ten years ago?

The Krogan Warlord was talking to her, explaining how it would be easier if she cooperated and answered all the questions like a good little pyjak. Susan pretended she didn't understand. The torture followed soon thereafter. As it expected, it was unsophisticated and brutal from the onset. Her chief concern, however, wasn't the pain. It was her immediate survival. If she died before they could extract the information from her, then it would all be a waste.

* * *

By the time Susan Rizzi had surrendered the crucial information to the Krogan, her body had sustained an incredible amount of punishment. It was difficult to assess the damage her torturers had inflicted, but it had to be extensive. She was ready to let go, hoping that her captors would simply end her life once they were confident they'd received what they wanted. It was the merciful thing to do, even if Krogan weren't necessarily noted for their mercy.

She was in shock, so the pain wasn't as overwhelming at it had been at the start. Her eyes were full of her own blood, the right so damaged that the blood was of little consequence, thus she wasn't in the position to examine her surroundings. As expected, the Krogan weren't exactly the most sophisticated interrogators she'd gone up against. They were butchers, not artists. Hell, she'd been through worse torment in N7 training, though, admittedly, it hadn't been nearly as gruesome.

Susan Rizzi's violent end was fitting. She'd gone out just like her father, tortured beyond reason, masticated like a piece of rotten meat in the jaws of a scavenger. Insane as it might sound, she found comfort in the symmetry.

' _Always get the job done, even if the work is dirty,'_ she thought.

Yea, dad would be proud, proud of how tough she was, of what she could endure, of what she had done for a dying race. General Vakarian would make sure that the crew knew that she'd lived up to the rank of Commander of the Normandy, that in her own way she was as much of a hero as the great Shepard.

Susan had always lived her life with a purpose, with something to prove. She wanted glory and acclaim, and she wasn't afraid to admit it to herself. This was a good death. If there had been anything left of her face she might have smiled.

' _They'll remember me now.'_

Susan had retreated somewhere in the back of her mind to prepare herself for death when all hell broke loose. She was so detached from her surroundings that it took her some time to realize what was happening. She was certain she could hear the sound of gunfire, and then several explosions, most certain grenades, followed by the distinctive shouts of Krogan. The sound of large bodies hitting the ground nearby, and then the familiar crash of a biotic charge that nearly rattled her remaining teeth out of her jaw.

And then hands were on her, a man's voice was shouting.

"Mouse, can you hear me? I've got you. Oh, fuck, fucking hell, what did they do to you, what the fuck did they do to you?" said the voice.

It took her a few seconds to place the voice. It was Striker, Steven James, her guy. What was he doing here? He shouldn't be seeing her in this condition.

"James, don't move her yet, let the medic do the work, and then we'll get the hell out of this damn place," said Garrus.

Susan's mottled brain was trying to make sense of her surroundings. Garrus shouldn't be here, that wasn't the plan. Had something gone wrong? Susan began to panic. Had she gone through all of that for nothing?

As she was cut out of the chair, Garrus spoke to her. "Hang on Rizzi, just a little ways to go."

She answered as best she could, trying not to choke on her own blood. "General, why are you here?"

Garrus silenced her. "Torsk is moving his forces exactly where we want them to be. They're walking right into the trap Wrex and Eve set for them. Even better, our reinforcements arrived early. They're already in orbit."

Susan couldn't believe her ears. It was perfect, almost too perfect. Her head buzzed in alarm.

"So, according to plan," she muttered.

"Careful with her, she's a mess," said Wind.

' _Maggie is here too?_ ' thought Susan.

Steve was getting edgy. "What the hell do you mean, according to plan?"

Garrus brushed him off. "Susan will explain it to you when she's on her feet again. When can we move her?"

"It's bad, but I can stabilize her," said Maggie. "Internal bleeding is minimal. Obviously, they took off an ear and pulled most of her teeth out. Aside from that, fractured skull and cheekbone, broken ribs and, missing digits on hands and feet, and the right eye is badly damaged, probably burned, fucking Krogan primitives. She'll live, and we can repair all the damage, but we need to get her back to the ship and into surgery ASAP."

' _So, I'm not going to go out like a hero,_ ' Susan thought bitterly. ' _I'll waste away from the damn cancer after all._ '

"What the hell, Garrus, why did you come for me?" she asked in an accusatory tone.

"The relay will be open in a few days, Susan," he explained. "We could be back on Earth in under a week."

Susan was weighing her response when Maggie stuck her with a needle. Anesthetic filled her bloodstream. Her pain and confusion ebbed away like a receding tide as she succumbed to unconsciousness.

* * *

When she awoke, she heard and felt the familiar thrum of a Kodiak shuttle, as well as an abundance of com chatter.

A particularly savage sounding Krogan was roaring over the din of the com traffic. " _That's it, keep pressing, drive on; crush them. Now is the time to break their flank!_ "

She could hear the shuttle crew commenting on the com chatter.

"It's all over now," said Garrus. "Grunt has them on their heels."

"That was a hell of a gamble, Sir," said another voice.

Susan didn't recognize it, but it was distinctively Turian.

"I prefer the term calculated risk," said Garrus. "Ok, Lieutenant, try them again."

"Hen, this is blackbird, starboard ballpoint pitch 32—approach vector 87.54. Uncover the nest, I repeat, uncover the nest."

There was a pause.

"Joker, are you there? What the hell is going on?" said Steve.

"There's only half a dozen on the Normandy," said the other Turian. "They might not have all the stations covered.

"The VI should be engaged though, and picking up my call sign. Something's not right," said Steve.

Garrus agreed. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

Steve was bewildered. "What, who would… oh shit, do you see that? It's a body. Someone got spaced."

Susan was alarmed.

"Did they get boarded?"

"No chance," said Garrus. "Torsk and his cronies are using old retrofitted civilian ships. They're no match for the Normandy in any respect."

Rizzi began to realize what was happening. Despite the state she was in, her instincts were still sharp. Garrus probably understood the danger as well. She thought back to her first days on the Normandy and her perception of her duty.

She forced herself into a sitting positon. "Sabotage," she said. "Is the relay still vulnerable?"

Garrus looked back at her and nodded.

Steve hadn't pieced it together yet. "Susan, what are you saying?"

"Not everyone on the Council was on board with the Krogan situation," said Garrus.

The other Turian spoke up. "Trakeus, you son of a bitch."

Garrus looked up. "It makes sense. He's trained in spec ops, and he's the only pure solider left on the ship. No one on board could stop him if he went rogue. Dammit all, and he's from Digeris, I should have covered my ass on that account alone. Lieutenant James, bring us up under the cargo area. We'll have to override the auxiliary hatch and board the Normandy."

"There's no time to get out there and fiddle with the hatch," said Steve. "If he's got control of the ship, he can pitch us off and go into stealth."

Susan, who was fully alert by now, had snatched a set of gear and began dressing, though she was making little progress.

She pleaded with Maggie. "I need you to get me on my feet."

"Simi, you crazy? Lay down," said Maggie.

"No," said Susan. "We're all dead if he gets away with the Normandy."

"You can't do anything from here," Maggie protested.

"The hell I can't," said Susan. "I'm the only one who has a shot at making it over there, but I need my biotics, so anything you have in that med kit that will get me on my feet and keep me going for a few minutes, do it now."

"What the hell are you going on about, Susan," said Steve. "Nobody is getting on the Normandy from here."

"Garrus…" Susan pleaded.

Garrus stood up. "Spirits… dammit, I know what she has in mind. It's crazy, but she's right. It's our only shot. Do as she asks."

Maggie complied without question, reacting like a soldier. She went into medic mode. Good girl, she was learning. Seconds later, Susan felt a dull jolt as her biotics became functional. A burning sensation in her right arm indicated that not all was well. In addition, the entire right side of her HUD bank was offline.

"Shit, forgot I lost my right eye," she said. "Going to make things harder."

"What did they do to you?" asked Maggie, as she helped Susan get some gear on.

Susan spat. "Burned it out with a fucking torch. Hurt like hell."

"Jesus, Susan," exclaimed Steve.

"No big deal," said Susan, laughing nervously. "It wasn't my good eye. I can do this."

The other Turian stared at Susan, shaking his head in awe. "I take back everything I ever said about humans."

Garrus chuckled. "Yea, some of these humans, especially the females, have steel underneath all that soft skin."

"The Normandy's stealth system just went online. She's gone from the sensors," warned Steve.

"Keep us in visual," said Garrus.

Susan didn't have much time to lose. "Draw us even with the Starboard observation deck, and get ready to pop the side doors."

"Do it," said Garrus without flinching. "Everyone, space ready, now."

Maggie pulled the IV from Susan's arm. "Ok, that's the best I can do. Remember, the chemicals are just a mask. If you push yourself too hard, your heart will fail."

Susan nodded and managed to get to her feet. She felt a warm sensation wash over her body followed by a surge of strength. On the way to the shuttle doors, someone handed her a pistol and a utility packet from the arms locker. She promptly checked the ammo load, and locked her helmet into place. She was in light armor, but it felt heavy as hell. There was no pain, but she could feel her broken ribs grinding in her chest. She stared at the door and waited. This was crazy. It was a one out of one hundred shot, but it was the only thing they had.

"She's accelerating," warned Steve.

' _Now!_ ' thought Susan.

The Kodiak's side door popped open and Susan flashed.

By some miracle she arrived on the Normandy, though with half her foot stuck in the observation deck floor. She stared at the mangled mess in despair. It didn't hurt of course, she couldn't feel a damn thing thanks to the cocktail of synthetic drugs Maggie had shot into her bloodstream. However, she could only keep moving for as long as her heart pumped blood to her brain, which wasn't going to be much longer at this rate.

A quick glance to the window and she noticed the stars streaming by. The Normandy was accelerating and had already left the shuttle behind. It was all on Susan now. Popping open her Omni-blade, she retrieved a trim wire from her pack and wrapped it around her ankle to cut off the blood flow. Amputating her own foot was a grim business, even without the pain, but she managed to gut her way through it.

' _Good soldier,_ ' she told herself.

Susan clutched her pistol and began to imitate moving forward, hopping on her right foot, which happened to be missing two toes.

She egged herself on. ' _You're a real badass, aren't you? No biotic has ever pulled that off, not even an Asari. Yea, sure, one matriarch managed a brick wall a few decades ago, but she didn't do it on the move, or in space. Yea, this is going to go down in history. You're going to get to the elevator, shoot Chief Kalderyn down like the mangy varren he is, and win the day."_

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Susan understood the impossibility of her course of action, but she wouldn't, couldn't allow herself the tiniest seed of doubt. She moved into the hall, steading herself by clutching the wall with one battered hand. It was all she could do to maintain her balance.

As she was passing the women's head*, she noticed blood on the floor. The door opened at her touch, revealing the body of Dr. Chakwas. Her throat had been cut, nearly severing the head from the body. Susan gritted her teeth. The brutality of the attack, especially on a medical officer, enraged her.

' _Trakeus, you treacherous asshole, I'm coming for you.'_

It took precious minutes to get to the elevator. When the doors open, her pistol was at the ready, but nobody was in sight. The command area was clear, aside from the body of a com specialist. Again, Susan moved forward. The light was dim and her vision was clouded. When she finally drew near the pilot seat, she found it empty. The haptic controls were offline. She attempted to bring them up to no avail.

"It's too late," came a voice from behind her.

Susan tried to swing her pistol around, but she was too slow. A simple push and she was sent sprawling to the floor. Trakeus kicked her pistol away and stood over her. He wasn't exactly gloating. In fact, he appeared to be quite startled.

"Spirits, Rizzi, how did you get on board?"

Susan hit him with a biotic throw, unfortunately, in her current state, she was at less than a fraction of her normal strength. All she'd managed to do was stagger him. As soon as he recovered, he aimed his sidearm. A shot rang out. Trakeus fell to his knees. There was confusion on his face. Susan was likewise at a loss until another round split the Turian's head. His lifeless body toppled to the deck as Joker came into view.

"Rizzi?"

"Yea," said Susan.

Joker stepped over the Turians' body. "How did you get…" his voice trailed off once he got a good look at Susan.

"Oh shit, what the fuckety fuck happened to you?"

"Cage match with five angry Krogan," said Susan. She managed a toothless grin for effect.

A bewildered Joker offered his hand, helping Susan into one of the cockpit seats.

"Let's get this ship back on course," she said.

Joker slid into his normal seat and began going over the controls.

"By the way, why are you still alive?" wondered Susan.

"Pure luck," said Joker. "It was my sleep shift, but I was restless. I started thinking about EDI. I dropped by med bay to get a sleeping aid from Doc, and noticed she wasn't at her post, so I decided to pop into the VI, well, the old AI room. I hadn't been in there in months, you know, memories and all that shit. That's what saved my ass. Pretty sure he planned to shiv me in my bunk, but I wasn't in my bunk."

"When did you realize…"

Joker was working furiously on the controls while he talked. "What was going on? Right away, the VI's were in meltdown, and I thought, what the shit? I tapped into the security feed and saw him dropping bodies, so I locked the doors and tried to get control through the VI banks. It was no use. He'd already linked them up and injected them with a logic bomb. Once he figured out I wasn't in my bunk, he tracked me down. He beat on the doors for a few minutes, and then gave up. I mean, what am I going to do to him anyway? He's a trained killer, and I'm, well, you know, glass man, and the totality of my combat training, aside from piloting, is a drunk Krogan, a drunk Prothean, and Massani shanghaiing me into target practice at Shepard's party."

Susan glanced at Trakeus's corpse. "Ah, the infamous party. Well, thank God for drunken soldiers."

"Ha!" exclaimed Joker. "Again, luck, Rizzi, all luck."

"Where are we with the haptic controls," wondered Susan.

"They're gone," said Joker. "We're in stealth, and we're locked on course, headed straight to the Mass Relay by the looks of it. Oh, and bonus, the drive core is building to an overload. Escape pods are working, for all the good it will do us. Logistically speaking, we're completely fucked."

Susan shook her head. "Can't accept that. There's got to be a way. What about the avionics bay? There's a bunch of solenoid backups for the engines down there, right? We could decelerate, or even better, force an FTL jump which would immediately overload the core."

"Solid theory, but he's locked out all the access hatches to avionics. Techs could burn through in about fifteen minutes, but we've got less than that, and no techs," said Joker.

Susan stared at the floor. "They're right below us, what, three or four meters, right?"

Joker nodded. "Yea, so."

"I'll give it a shot, if you promise to get to an escape pod."

"Rizzi, what are you talking about?"

Susan climbed out of the seat. "Help me," she said to Joker. "I can get in with my biotics, but I need to be right over avionics. How much room is there?"

"Wait a second," said Joker. "This is crazy, you can't get through the bulkhead with biotics."

"Joker, how do you think I got on the damn ship?" said Susan. Now help me, I can do this."

Joker helped her to maneuver into positon.

"Now lift me up off the floor, and drop me when I say, can you manage that? I need just a little bit of momentum."

"I can't… this is crazy."

"Joker…"

"Shit, ok. I'll do my best, but don't be surprised if you hear snapping bones."

"Wouldn't be the first time today," said Susan.

"Rizzi, you're a real badass, you know that?"

"Yea, I know."

"No false modesty, either. I like that in a woman."

"Flatterer! Yes, that's right, just a little higher. And Joker?"

"Yea?"

"As soon as I'm gone, move out, ok?"

Joker grumbled something inaudible.

"I mean it, promise me."

"Ok, sure, Rizzi, whatever you say."

"I'm serious, if I pull this off, I want the glory, and you're a hell of a talker."

Joker grunted. "I can't lift you any higher if you make me laugh."

"Ok, that's good enough," said Susan. "All I need is a nudge to get through, ready?"

"Ready,"

"Drop!"

Susan flashed.

Seconds later, her last conscious thoughts fired like sparks in a void. It had been a ridiculous notion, really. There was blood everywhere, her blood. What was left of her body was comingled with the Normandy. Hot wires cut through her torso. She tried to scream, but couldn't catch her breath. Even if it was possible to reach the solenoids, even if she was anywhere near them, it would have done her no good. She couldn't see a thing. An electric shock ran through her skull, her body twitched with death.

One last spark, one last thought.

A finger flicked at the grenade on her belt.

Maybe…

 **THE END**

* * *

Next: **Epilogue**


	45. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

Noosa Heads, Queensland, Australia

September 20th, 2188

 **Jack**

* * *

Jack struggled to get through the front door without dropping her carry bags. Her balance was nearly all the way back, which was a good thing. However, she'd overestimated the amount of groceries she could manage at once.

"Should've made two trips," she muttered to herself as she helplessly watched a lime bounce on the hardwood floor.

"Shit! Miri, could I get a hand here?"

Nothing.

She was losing one of the bags.

"MIRI!" she shouted.

Two more limes hit the floor, followed by a bag of rice.

"Goddammit!"

She maneuvered across the dining room like a clown dancing on a tightrope before managing to heave the groceries onto the counter. A mess of contents scattered in every direction, some of them wound up on the floor. It took a good ten minutes and several pages worth of foul language before she got everything collected and stowed away in the cooler dry bins. When she was finished, she grabbed a cold beer on her way to the window.

It was a hell of a nice place, this little home on the beach. Not too big, not too small, and not too fancy, but the location was fucking perfect. Zaeed, that crazy old son of a bitch, had left it to her in his will. Jack wasn't quite sure what she'd done to get this far onto his good side, and she'd probably never know, but goddamn, she wasn't going to turn it down. It was the nicest thing she'd ever owned.

She took a swallow, savoring the trickle of cool amber froth, and stared out the window. Miri was out on the sand in front of the house, notepad in hand, wearing nothing but a pair of sunglasses and a piece of string around her hips that made a mockery of the local ordinance against full nudity on the beach.

Jack leaned forward, allowing her eyes to do a bit of ogling from a distance as she downed her beer. After she dropped the bottle into the recycling station, she moved to the bar and made up two drinks, one whiskey sour, and one third degree martini. She set the drinks aside, ambled down the hall to the bedroom, and shed her clothes. Pulling open the top drawer on the dresser, she located a pair of black bikini bottoms, scooped them up, and pulled them on. A few minutes later she was tap-dancing over hot sand, a drink in each hand.

Once she reached the blanket, she knelt down and held out the martini. "Your drink, princess."

Miranda Lawson turned her sunglasses in Jack's direction. Her lips, rather than forming a smile, curled into a devilish smirk. In the old days Jack used to hate that expression and what it represented. She'd take umbrage to that smirk, and she'd always want to erase it with extreme violence. Recently, however, it had taken on new context. It was still a flashpoint between the two women, but what it ignited was something else entirely.

' _Uh, oh_ , _one of these moods,_ ' thought Jack.

She held out the martini for Miranda. Lawson took the drink in her left hand and set it aside as she leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on Jack's lips. Jack barely had a moment to savor the kiss before she felt herself being pulled down onto the blanket. Miri's sundrenched skin was slippery with oil and sweat, and smelled of coconuts, which immediately turned Jack on. And so it went, drinks forgotten or spilled, arms and legs entwined, they writhed atop the blanket like two desperate teenagers on a second date.

Miranda slipped her fingers under Jack's bikini bottoms and gave them a tug. As they began to slide down, Jack clutched at them desperately, remembering where she was. She laughed and shook her head, indicating to Miranda that they should stop.

"Miri, we're on a public beach," she protested feebly.

Miranda had a peculiar glint in her eyes. "Are you afraid?"

Jack growled. No way in hell she was going to back down now. She let go, allowing Miranda to strip her bottoms off…

* * *

Jack was roused from her deep sleep by bloodcurdling screams. She sat up in bed, disorientated, and began fumbling in the darkness. The screams continued, followed by muffled weeping. A calm came over Jack as she followed a spark of cognizance, and then she fell into a familiar pattern. Taking hold of Miranda's shoulders, she gently shook her partner, waking her from the nightmare.

Jack called out "lights," which revealed a familiar sight. Miranda, frantic, covered in sweat, and trembling like a frightened cat.

She shot up out of bed, eyes half opened, glancing about. Jack moved in, wrapping her arms around Miranda.

Jack spoke with a practiced, gentle tone. "You're ok, baby, it was just a dream."

"Shit," said Miranda. "I'm sorry."

Jack hugged Miranda tight, and nuzzled her neck. "Nothing to be sorry about."

She ran her fingers through Miranda's short hair, and felt her body start to loosen and uncoil. The breathing slowed and deepened, and then Miranda turned to her, tears dripping from her puffy eyelids and wetting the dark circles underneath.

"I love you," said Miranda.

Jack felt a rush of adrenaline each and every time she heard those words. She squeezed Miranda even tighter, and then kissed her cheek.

"I love you too, Miri," she said.

It was so easy to say those words now, even though it was still weird as fuck.

"Did you ever have nightmares, you know, after you first escaped the facility on Pragia?" asked Miranda.

"Oh hell yes," said Jack. "Every fucking night for about a year. Kept dreaming I was back there. Alcohol helps a little, but not always. Over time… well, not as many, but they still show up every now and then."

Miranda climbed out of bed and stood up, peeling off her sweat-soaked shirt. As she searched her drawer for something else to wear, Jack let her eyes drift over her lover's body, tracing all the familiar lines. Miranda's fading scars were illuminated by a slight sunburn, except for the left arm, which was still pale.

"Your new arm didn't burn," said Jack.

Miranda shook her head. "The synthetic skin is more resistant to radiation, though, I still shouldn't be out in the sun that long."

Jack chuckled. "Neither of us should."

Miranda sighed. "About that, I'm sorry."

"It's ok," said Jack. "It's been a few years since I was busted for anything, so I was about due."

"That was the first time I've ever been arrested," said Miranda.

Jack shrugged. "Getting a citation for public lewdness isn't a real arrest, Miri. It doesn't count unless they lock you up."

Miranda's voice tensed. "Lucky for us, then. After Amaranthine… well, I don't like being locked up."

Jack shrugged. "It's a huge fucking fine though. I really need to start thinking about a job again, and fuck… sooner or later I'm going to have to pay taxes on this place."

Miranda turned to her. "Well, about that…"

Jack stiffened. Miranda had inherited what was left of her father's fortune, which was still a shitload of money. She was worth millions. It made Jack feel a bit uneasy.

"Miri, I appreciate it, but I don't want you paying for everything. I need to earn my keep," she said.

Miranda sighed. "That's not what I meant. I… well, I was going to save this for your birthday…"

Jack cut her off. "I don't have a birthday, or at least I don't know when it is, and I've never celebrated it."

"We need to change that," said Miranda.

She sounded determined, so Jack shrugged. "Ok, whatever you say. Just don't expect me to blow out candles or wear a fucking party hat."

Miranda laughed. "No candles, no hats, I promise, besides, I think you'll be too busy managing all of this."

Miranda retrieved a notepad from the side of the bed and waved it at Jack. It was the same one she'd been going over on the beach.

Jack cocked an eyebrow. "Miri, what are you up to?"

"Remember back on Amaranthine, when you found me…"

Jack nodded. "Found you? That's one way of putting it."

Miranda continued. "I took Petrovsky's head off so I could get into his security room."

Jack nodded. "Uh, huh, I sort of worked that out by now."

Miranda handed Jack the notepad.

Jack looked it over. Touched the screen, and watched a bunch of numbers roll by.

"What am I looking at?" she asked.

"Accounts, stocks, holdings," said Miranda. "Everything that's left of Cerberus that the Alliance hasn't seized. It's all been laundered through several prominent Volus brokers, so it's clean."

Jack could see it all now. Numbers slid across the screen, all of them equating to credits. "Shit, Miri, there's millions, or tens of millions in here. What are you doing with this?"

"Not I, you, and there's well over a hundred million credits in there," said Miranda.

Jack shook her head. "Huh?"

Miranda sat down next to Jack. "Once I got into Cerberus's system, I was able to seize control of all their assets. I know all their protocols so it wasn't that difficult. I was going to channel it to the Alliance, so they could use it for reparations for all the suffering Cerberus caused, but I realized that most of the people that Cerberus came in contact with are dead now, or it would take years to track them all down, and meanwhile the Alliance bureaucrats would piss it all away.

So, there was you. You were raised in a Cerberus facility, as far as I'm concerned, they owe you an entire life. I know this doesn't make up for it, but you always wanted payback. What better payback than this? You own Cerberus now. Everything they have left is yours. I put it all in your name, well, various aliases that are all assigned to you."

Jack was stunned. "Miri, what the hell am I going to do with all of this?"

"Anything you want," said Miranda. "Once upon a time, didn't you tell Shepard you wanted to be a pirate?"

Jack laughed. "Fucking hell, did you listen in on every single conversation on the Normandy?"

Miranda shrugged. "It was my job."

Jack shook her head. "Anyway, yea, but that was then, and I'm not sure that's quite my style anymore. Also…" she grinned. "I'm not the one with the metal arm."

Miranda sighed. "I certainly walked into that one."

"Sure as shit, princess," said Jack.

"Princess again, you've been using that a lot lately," said Miranda. "I hope cheerleader isn't going to make a comeback as well."

"No way," said Jack, her lips curling into devious smile. "You're not a cheerleader anymore, but you are my princess."

"Oh… God," said Miranda. "That's the cheesiest thing anyone has ever said to me."

Jack stuck her foot out and brushed Miranda's bare leg with her toes.

"But you love it, don't you," said Jack.

Miranda cocked her head and did her best impression of being unimpressed, but her reddening cheeks betrayed her.

"See, you're blushing," said Jack.

"Because you're impossible," said Miranda.

"Because you like it," said Jack, as she continued stroking Miranda's leg with her toes.

Miranda gave up, and crawled back onto the bed, maneuvering her way into Jack's lap. Jack wrapped her arms and legs around Miranda and began kissing her neck.

"You like it," Jack insisted with a whisper.

Something escaped Miranda that sounded suspiciously close to a giggle.

"I suppose I do."

* * *

Jack sat on the couch sipping her morning coffee, half watching the news while ideas drifted through her head. She couldn't believe what Miri had done for her. She was rich as fuck. What was she going to do with all those credits?

She stared out the window. Miranda had taken a call just minutes ago, and was pacing the deck. It looked serious. Jack was a bit worried, but she didn't want to stare. She turned her eyes back on the news and increased the volume.

The holo display showed images from the Krogan home world. Jack couldn't believe it, but it actually looked worse than it had when she was there a few years earlier with Shepard, and that was saying something, because it was the biggest pile of shit she'd ever set foot on.

' _The Normandy was destroyed, but the relay was undamaged and the crisis was averted due to the heroics of Commander Susan Rizzi, who, sadly, was killed in action. She's been recommended for her second Star of Terra, and if she receives it, she will join Commander Josslyn Shepard as the only other soldier to be rewarded with the Alliance's highest honor twice in a lifetime._

 _In other news, former acting Secretary and President, Gianna Parasini, accepted her new post, becoming Humanity's fourth Councilor. Meanwhile, former Councilor Dominique Okuda has continued to surge in the polls. It is a forgone conclusion that he will serve as the next President of the Alliance…"_

Jack grumbled to herself and shut the news off. She wanted to hear more about Tuchanka, not politics. She shook her head, thinking about Joker. Lucky bastard always seemed to find his way to an escape pod at the very last second. She meant to get in touch, but the time just sort of slipped by.

She glanced out the window. Miranda had dropped the call, and was standing at the rail facing away. Jack got up off the sofa and made her to the deck where she slid into place near Miranda who was staring into the ocean.

"Everything ok?" asked Jack.

Miranda shook her head. "That was Liara."

"Ah," said Jack. "Is she back on Thessia?"

"No," said Miranda. "She's still with Shepard."

"I thought she was going to bury Shepard, or shoot her into a star or whatever," said Jack.

"She's having second thoughts," said Miranda. "Serious second thoughts."

"Second thoughts about what?" Jack wondered. "She's not going to turn the body over to fucking Alliance research, is she?"

Miranda leaned against the railing, her brow furrowing. "Not a chance, but apparently she received a mysterious communication. She's convinced herself that it was the Geth, and she's got this idea in her head that Shepard can still be brought back."

"Oh, fuck," said Jack.

"Yea," said Miranda. "And that's not the worst part of it."

Jack gulped down the last bit of coffee as a bunch of shit broke loose in her head. She swallowed and likewise turned to the ocean, staring into the rolling waves.

"She wants you in on this, because you did it before," said Jack.

She didn't need to see Miranda's acknowledgement. Jack knew it to be the truth.

"I don't know what to do," said Miranda. "The Reapers, they did something to Shepard. What if…"

"Miri," said Jack. "It's Shepard, you know you have to try."

Miranda turned to Jack, smiling, and nodded. "Thank you for understanding."

Jack smiled back, but she felt uneasy. At just that moment a shadow fell across them as the sun slipped behind the clouds. She hoped it wasn't a bad omen.

* * *

To be continued in **Mass Effect: The Wraith Wars**.

Maybe...


End file.
